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204    >iAi'J*T    !r 

LIFE 

or 

MRS.  ELIZA  A.  SETON, 

FOUNDRESS  AND  FIRST  SUPERIOR 

or  THE 

Bisters  or  gaujhto  of 

IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA ; 


WITH 

COPIOUS  EXTRACTS  FROM  HER  WRITINGS,  AND  AN  HISTORICAL 

SKETCH  OP  THE  SISTERHOOD  PROM  ITS  FOUNDATION 

TO  THE  TIME  OF  HEii  DEATH. 


BY 

CHARLES  I.  WHITE,  D.D. 
\\ 

TO  WHICH   IS  ADDED  AN  APPENDIX   CONTAINING  A  SUMMARY 

OF  THE  HISTORY  OP  THB  SISTERS  OF  CHARITY 

TO  THE  YEAR  1879. 


"Her  children  rose  up  and  called  her  blessed."— PHOV.  rxxl,  28. 


TENTH  EDITION. 


P.    J.     KENEDY    AND    SONS 

PUBLISHERS  TO  THE  HOLY  APOSTOLIC  SEE 

3  AND  5    BARCLAY   STREET   NEW  YORK 


tifcLPBRS  OF  THE  HOLY  SOULS 

MOO  WEST  ADAMS  BLVZX 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIF. 


TO 

0f  Cjarits 


THE  UNITED  STATES, 

WHO     WALK     IN    THE     FOOTSTEPS     OF     THEIR 


IMITATORS    OF    HER    VIRTUES, 
AND   CONTINUATORS   OF   THE    HOLY   WORK   WHICH   SHE    COMMENCED 


Ig  BESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED  BT 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PEEFAOE 

TO   THE  THIRD   EDITION. 


THIS  volume  originally  appeared  in  the  year  1853. 
It  met  with  such  a  cordial  reception  that  the  first 
edition  was  soon  exhausted. 

In  compliance  with  the  repeated  solicitations  of 
friends,  the  author  revised  his  work,  and  omitted  some 
passages  for  the  purpose  chiefly  of  reducing  its  bulk 
and  bringing  it  more  generally  within  the  reach  of 
purchasers.  The  second  edition,  thus  improved,  was 
published  in  1856,  and  sold  so  rapidly  that  it  has  been 
out  of  print  for  some  time. 

The  demand  for  the  book  continues,  but  the  author 
is  no  longer  here  to  prepare  the  third  edition.  On  the 
1st  of  April,  1878,  he  was  called  to  his  reward,  leaving 
behind  him  the  memory  of  a  learned,  virtuous  and 
eealous  priest. 

Besides  what  was  in  the  second  edition,  the  present 
volume  contains,  in  an  appendix,  a  summary  of  the 
history  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  since  the  death  of  the 
venerated  Foundress  of  the  Order,  and  the  general 
statistics  of  the  Province  of  the  United  States  for 
the  year  1878.  Thus  supplemented,  the  "  Life  of 
Mother  Seton"  is  again  presented  to  the  public. 

THE  PUBLISHERa 
FEAST  OF  THE  PURIFICATION. 


EXTRACT 

FROM    THE 

PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


IT  cannot  DC  denied  that  the  memory  of  Mrs.  Setun  is 
justly  deserving  of  public  record.  The  eminent  qualities 
with  which  nature  had  endowed  her,  enhanced  as  they 
were  by  study  and  reflection, — her  peculiarly  religious 
temperament  and  strict  fidelity  in  discharging  the  various 
duties  of  social  and  domestic  life,  although  living  amid  the 
distracting  and  enervating  influences  of  the  beau  monde, — 
the  remarkable  circumstance  of  her  conversion  to  the 
Catholic  faith,  in  defiance  of  the  most  formidable  obstacles 
that  could  be  thrown  in  the  way, — lastly,  the  extraordinary 
design  of  Providence,  by  which  she  became  the  institutrix 
and  first  superior  of  a  society  whose  members  are  now 
spread  over  every  portion  of  the  United  States,  for  the 
honor  of  religion,  the  instruction  of  youth,  and  the  relief 
of  suffering  humanity, — are  considerations  which  appeared 
long  since  to  require  a  more  extended  notice  of  her  than 
had  yet  been  given  to  the  public.  There  are  few  stations 
in  life  affording  an  opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  female 
usefulness  that  she  did  not  adorn  by  her  virtues.  In  the 
various  relations  of  daughter,  wife,  and  mother,  she  may  be 
advantageously  proposed  as  a  model.  In  the  ordeal  which 
she  was  forced  to  encounter  for  the  successful  investigation 
of  religious  truth,  and  in  the  subsequent  practice  of  the 
duties  which  it  imposed,  she  displays  an  example  which 
may  not  be  unprofitable  to  those  who  are  engaged  in  ex- 


EXTRACT    PROM    PREFACE. 

arninmg  the  doctrines  of  Catholicism,  as  well  as  to  those 
who  already  believe  them.  In  the  third  place,  her  re- 
nuuciatiou  of  the  world  for  Christ's  sake,  and  her  zealous 
efforts  to  form  and  mature  the  admirable  institution  whose 
benevolent  and  heavenly  influence  is  now  so  widely  felt, 
offer  a  variety  of  edifying  incidents  interesting  to  all  who 
rejoice  at  the  triumphs  of  Christian  faith,  but  especially  to 
her  spiritual  daughters,  who  are  the  inheritors  of  her  virtue 
and  reap  the  blessings  of  her  generous  piety. 

The  information  embodied  in  this  volume  relative  to 
Mrs.  Seton  has  been  collected  altogether  from  original 
and  cotemporary  papers,  embracing  the  autograph  letters 
and  other  writings  of  herself  and  those  who  corresponded 
with  her,  and  from  the  manuscript  of  verbal  statements 
respecting  her  and  her  family,  and  the  Institution  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity,  furnished  by  numerous  individuals  who 
were  intimately  acquainted  with  her,  and  some  of  whom 
have  witnessed  the  progress  of  the  society  which  she 
founded  from  its  origin  to  the  present  day. 

In  the  construction  of  this  narrative,  I  have  quoted, 
whenever  it  was  practicable,  Mrs.  Seton's  own  words,  in 
order  to  render  it  as  much  as  possible  an  autobiography,  and 
thus  present  a  more  lifelike  portraiture  of  her  character. 

In  conclusion,  I  offer  this  volume  to  the  public,  with  the 
hope  that  in  rescuing  from  farther  oblivion  or  destruction 
the  memorials  of  a  personage  who  has  rendered  such  im- 
portant services  to  religion  and  society  as  Mrs.  Seton,  I  may 
have  contributed  in  some  degree  to  the  stock  of  useful 
literature,  and  done  something  toward  promoting  the  cause 
of  piety  and  general  edification.  These  considerations,  I 
trust,  will  claim  for  the  imperfections  of  the  work  th« 
indulgent  criticism  cf  the  reader. 

THE  AUTHOR. 

PJKESVJLLE,  MD.,  November  1,  1862. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  L 

MM 

BIRTH  and  family  of  Miss  Bayley — Her  mother  a  death — Left  to  the 
care  of  her  father — Her  fLial  piety — Mental  endowments — Educa- 
tion and  religious  views — Habits  of  self-control — Personal  ap- 
pearance—Marriage with  Mr.  Seton — His  family — Her  prospects 
in  life— Submission  to  the  decrees  of  Providence — Spiritual  re- 
flection and  reading — Danger  from  infidel  writings — Her  cheer- 
ful disposition — Fortitude  under  trials — Her  children — Mode  of 
training  and  instructing  them — Counsels  to  others — Her  charity 
to  the  poor — Devotion  at  the  Lord't  Supper — On  the  occasion  of 
a  baptism  —  Self-improvement — Professional  eminence  of  Dr. 
Bayley — Pleasure  in  the  society  of  his  daughter — Their  correspond- 
ence—  Laborious  duties  of  Dr.  Bayley  as  Health- Officer — Mrs. 
Seton's  generous  compassion  for  the  poor  sick — Her  devotions— 
Dr.  Bayley 's  illness — Mrs.  Seton's  offering  in  his  behalf — His  death 
and  character — Religious  spirit  of  Mrs.  Seton  •  .  .  .11 

BOOK  IL 

Mr.  Seton's  ill-health — Voyage  to  Italy,  accompanied  by  his  wife 
and  eldest  daughter — Mrs.  Seton's  sentiments — Her  journal- 
Incidents  on  arriving  at  Leghorn — Description  of  the  Lazaretto 
— Mrs.  Seton's  resignation  and  fortitude — The  Capitano — Mr. 
Seton  grows  weaker — Quarantine  precautions — Mrs.  Seton's  confi- 
dence in  God — Comfort  to  her  husband — His  sufferings — The  Ca- 
pitano's  religion — Sentiments  of  Mr.  Seton — Visitors  at  the  Laza- 
retto— Incident  of  Mrs  Seton's  youth — Reflections — Communion 
with  home — Attentions  to  her  husband — Devotions — Journey  to 
Pisa — Devotedness  of  Mrs.  Seton — Her  husband's  dispositions — 
His  death — Energy  and  fortitude  of  his  wife — What  strangers 
thought  of  her — Attentions  and  sympathy  from  friends — Visit  to 
Florence — Impressions §1 

BOOK  III. 

Mrs.  Seton'a  inquiry  on  the  subject  of  religion — Efforts  to  enlightem 
her  -Her  sentiments  and  impressions — Departure  for  America-  - 

9 


10  CONTENTS. 

•Mi 

Disappointment  and  sickness — Her  admiration  of  Catholicity — 
Visit  to  her  husband's  grave — The  Messrs.  Filicchi — Mrs.  Seton 
leaves  Italy — Sentiments  during  the  voyage — Arrival  in  New 
York — Death  of  Miss  Rebecca  Seton — Mrs.  Seton  opposed  in  her 
religions  views — The  main  point  insisted  on  by  Mr.  Filicchi — Com- 
bated by  Dr.  Hobart — His  abilities  and  standing — Arguments — 
Situation  of  Mrs.  Seton's  mind — Danger  of  her  faith — Efforts  of 
Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi — Consult  Bishop  Carroll — Mrs.  Seton's  Ul- 
terior struggles — Counsel  and  instruction  of  Mr.  P.  Filicchi — 
Mrs.  Seton's  trials  and  sentiments — Her  resolution — Letter  of 
Bishop  Carroll — The  final  determination — Abjuration  of  Protest- 
antism— Fervor  in  approaching  the  sacraments  .  .  .91 

BOOK  IV. 

Mrs.  Seton's  appreciation  of  Catholicity — Correspondence  with  Rev. 
Mr.  Cheverus — Other  clergymen — Persecution  from  her  family — 
Her  temporal  affairs — Mr.  Filicchi's  substantial  friendship — Her 
sons  placed  at  college — Daily  duties — Piety  and  faith — Instruc- 
tions of  Rev.  Mr.  Tisserant — Mrs.  Seton  receives  the  sacrament 
of  confirmation  —  Messrs.  Filicchi  and  Tisserant  embark  for 
Europe — Relations  between  Mr.  Filicchi  and  Mrs.  Seton — Her  de- 
portment tow.ard  Protestants — Intercourse  between  her  and  Miss 
Cecilia  Seton — Conversion  of  the  latter — Her  heroic  faith — In- 
creased opposition  to  Mrs.  Seton — Her  new  friends — Example  of 
her  sister-in-law  and  herself — Instruction  of  her  children — She 
meets  Rev.  William  Dubourg — New  plans — Confers  with  Bishop 
Carroll — Views  of  Messrs.  Matignon  and  Cheverus — Remarkable 
prediction  of  the  former — Notice  of  Mr.  Dubourg — Difficulties  of 
Mrs.  Seton's  position  in  New  York — She  consults  Bishop  Carroll — 
His  advice — Another  interview  with  Mr.  Dubourg — She  resolves 
to  commence  an  institution  in  Baltimore — Plan  of  Mr.  Dubourg  .  151 

BOOK  V. 

Mrs.  Seton  embarks  for  Baltimore — Her  sentiments  during  the 
voyage  and  on  her  arrival — Her  sons  removed  to  St.  Mary's  College 
— Attentions  received  by  her — Happiness  in  her  new  situation 
— Letter  from  Mr.  Filicchi — She  writes  to  him — His  generosity — 
Commencement  of  an  academy — Exercises  of  the  school — Rev. 
Peter  Babade — First  communion — Miss  Harriet  Seton — Mrs.  Se- 
ton's attachment  to  her  and  her  sisters — Piety  of  Miss  Cecilia 
Beton — Correspondence  between  her  and  Mrs.  Seton's  first  aaso- 


CONTENTS.  11 

•Mi 

•iate — Remarkable  coincidence — Project  of  a  work  of  charity — 
Mr.  Samuel  Cooper — Purchase  of  land  near  Emmettsburg — BAT. 
John  Dubois — Beginnings  of  Mt  St.  Mary's  College — Prediction  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Cheverus — Mrs.  Seton  is  joined  by  others — Her  humility 
— Costume  and  exercise  of  the  sisters — Mrs.  Seton  binds  herself 
by  TOW — Name  of  the  society — Further  accessions — Miss  Cecilia 
Seton's  sickness  and  voyage  to  Baltimore — Mother  Seton  accom- 
panies her  to  Emmettsburg — Her  sister  Harriet's  conversion  .  .  tit 

BOOK  VL 

Mother  Seton  and  her  companions  remove  to  St  Joseph's  Valley — 
The  conventual  house — Elements  of  the  sisterhood — Design  of 
the  institute — Its  rules — First  retreat — Counsels  of  the  Superior 
— Discipline  enforced — Employment  of  the  sisters — Privations — 
Miss  Harriet  Seton — Her  fervent  piety  and  death — Sympathy  for 
Mother  Seton — The  community  move  to  a  new  building — School 
commenced — Illness  and  death  of  Cecilia  Seton — Condition  of 
the  institution — Visit  of  Bishop  Cheverus — Rev.  John  B.  David 
— Second  retreat — Correspondence  between  Mother  Seton  and  Mr. 
Filicchi — Her  gratitude — Efforts  for  the  permanency  of  the  house  241 

BOOK   VH. 

Colony  of  Sisters  expected  from  France — Their  disappointment- 
Origin  and  diffusion  of  the  "  Daughters  of  Charity" — Object  and 
spirit  of  the  society — Government  of  St  Joseph's  House — Mother 
Seton's  peculiar  position — She  consults  Archbishop  Carroll — Hia 
advice  to  her,  and  approval  of  the  rules — Adoption  of  them  by 
the  community — Final  confirmation — Mother  Seton's  humility — 
First  election  of  officers — Costume  of  the  Sisters — Increase  of  the 
Society — Sister  Annina  Seton — Her  illness,  piety,  and  death — 
Mother  Seton's  sentiments 282 


BOOK  vm. 

Her.  Simon  G.  Brute  becomes  the  assistant  of  Mr.  Dubois — Labo- 
rious charge  of  the  latter — Notice  of  Mr.  Brute1 — Archbishop  Car- 
roll visits  the  sisterhood — Fervor  of  the  community — Virtues  of 
Sister  Maria  Murphy — Her  illness  and  death — Spirit  of  poverty 
at  St  Joseph's — First  vows — Lessons  and  example  of  Mother  8«- 
ton  —  Deaths  in  the  community  —  Sisters  Eleanor  Thompson, 
Benedict*  Corish,  Agnes  Duffy,  and  Catharine  Mullen — Sister* 


12  CONTENTS. 

MM 

called  to  Philadelphia — Take  charge  of  an  Orphan  Asylum  in  that 
city — Its  origin  and  progress — Sisters  of  Charity  in  Kentucky — 
Mother  Seton's  attention  to  the  Academy — Her  qualifications  as  a 
preceptress  of  female  youth — Conduct  toward  the  pupils  and  their 
parents — Wisdom  in  the  formation  of  character — Instructions  to 
young  ladies — Her  manner — Mildness  in  reproof — Salutary  effect 
of  her  instructions  ........  Sll 


BOOK   IX. 

Mother  Seton's  solicitude  for  her  children — Her  eldest  son  embarks 
in  life  —  Her  advice  to  him  —  He  leaves  America  in  company 
with  Mr.  BrutS— His  brother— Death  of  Mr.  Philip  Filicchi— Ill- 
ness of  Misu  Rebecca  Seton — Her  piety — Sentiments  of  her  mother 
— Her  lively  faith — Her  death — Dispositions  of  Mother  Seton — 
Sympathy  of  her  friends — Is  re-elected  Mother-Superior — Three 
sisters  sent  to  the  college  at  the  Mountain — Death  of  Archbishop 
Carroll — His  successor — Bishop  Cheverns  visits  the  sisterhood — 
The  sisters  incorporated — Remarkable  death  of  Mr.  Eminett  — 
Three  sisters  sent  to  New  York — Return  of  Mother  Seton's  son 
from  Europe — Enters  the  navy — His  former  place  occupied  by  hi* 
brother — Bishop  Dubourg  visits  the  sisterhood — Death  of  Rev. 
Mr.  Duhamel  —  Duties  of  Mr.  Dnbois  —  Progress  of  the  college 
and  character  of  its  president — Mr.  BrutS  settles  at  the  Mountain 
— Illness  of  Mother  Seton — Is  elected  Mother-Superior  for  a  third 
term — Her  counsels  to  sisters  on  the  Mission — Project  of  building  a 
church — House  for  free-school  erected — Deaths  in  the  Community  551 

BOOK  X. 

Mother  Seton's  literary  taste— Her  genius  and  writings — Conversa- 
tional powers — Impressiveness  and  propriety  of  manner — Affec- 
tion for  her  children — Kindness  to  all — Gratitude — Friendship — 
How  appreciated — Charity  to  the  poor — Austerity  to  herself — In- 
terior trials — Combat  of  self  by  obedience — Conformity  to  the  Di- 
vine will — Spirit  of  the  cross — Humility — Faith — Zeal  for  the 
spiritual  kingdom — Its  happy  effects — Her  devotion  to  the  Mother 
of  God — Her  last  illness  and  sentiments  during  it — Her  death 
and  memory  .. 381 

APPENDIX       ...:.......       429 

HOTKB  .  ;       461 


THE  LIFE 
or 

MRS.  E.  A.  SETON. 


BOOK  L 

Birth  and  family  of  Miss  Bayley — Her  mother's  death — Left  to  the  care 
of  her  father — Her  filial  piety — Mental  endowments — Education  and 
religions  views — Habits  of  self-control — Personal  appearance — Mar- 
riage with  Mr.  Seton — His  family — Her  prospects  in  life — Submission 
to  the  decrees  of  Providence — Spiritual  reflection  and  reading — Danger 
from  infidel  writings  —  Her  cheerful  disposition — Fortitude  under 
trials — Her  children — Mode  of  training  and  instructing  them — Coun- 
sels to  others — Her  charity  to  the  poor — Devotion  at  the  Lord't  Ship- 
per— On  the  occasion  of  a  baptism — Self-improvement — Professional 
eminence  of  Dr.  Bayley — Pleasure  in  the  society  of  his  daughter — 
Their  correspondence — His  laborious  duties — Mrs.  Soton's  generous 
compassion  for  the  poor  sick — Her  devotions — Dr.  Bayley's  illness — 
Mrs.  Seton's  offering  in  his  behalf — His  death  and  character — Reli- 
gious spirit  of  Mrs.  Seton. 

ELIZA  ANN  BAYLEY  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
on  the  28th  of  August,  1774,  nearly  two  years  before  the  de- 
claration of  American  independence.  She  was  the  younger 
of  two  daughters,  the  only  children  of  Dr.  Richard  Bayley, 
by  his  first  marriage  with  Catharine  Charlton.  Her  parents 
were  both  Americans  by  birth,  and  of  respectable  standing 
in  society.  As  the  sequel  will  show,  her  father  was  a  man 
jf  strong  mind  and  liberal  education,  and  rose  by  his  ge- 
nius aud  industry  to  an  eminent  rank  in  the  medical  pro- 
i  IS 


14  THE    LIFE    OF 

fession.(1)  Her  mother  was  the  daughter  of  an  Episco- 
palian clergyman,  and  a  sister  of  Dr.  Charlton,  a  much 
respected  physician  of  the  day.  Miss  Bayley  had  not  yet 
completed  her  third  year,  when  death  deprived  her  of  her 
maternal  parent,  whose  vigilant  and  affectionate  care  was 
BO  desirable  a  protection  at  that  tender  age.  She  suffered 
this  bereavement,  however,  too  early  to  estimate  the  extent 
of  her  loss;  and  all  her  affections  as  she  advanced  in  life 
became  centred  in  her  father.  Upon  him  devolved  en- 
tirely the  guardianship  of  her  youth  and  the  subsequent 
care  of  her  education — duties  which  engaged  his  earnest 
and  unceasing  attention.  Though  compelled,  by  the  tender 
age  of  his  daughter,  to  depend,  in  a  great  measure,  on  the 
fidelity  of  others  for  the  attentions  which  her  situation  re- 
quired, he  never  ceased  to  exercise  an  immediate  and 
watchful  superintendence  over  her  welfare,  and  to  evince  at 
all  times  that  affectionate  solicitude  which,  however  impera- 
tively demanded  by  the  absence  of  maternal  care,  was  pecu- 
liarly congenial  to  his  elevated  and  benevolent  nature.  The 
political  troubles  which  at  this  period  agitated  the  country, 
in  its  violent  struggle  for  independence,  was  another  con- 
sideration which  tended  to  strengthen  the  bond  between  the 
parent  and  the  child.  Great  Britain  and  the  colonies  were 
now  at  open  war  with  each  other,  and  the  city  of  New  York 
participated  largely  in  the  danger  and  confusion  which  such 
events  naturally  produce.  The  English  troops  having  en- 
tered the  town  in  1776,  retained  possession  of  it  for  the 
space  of  seven  years;  soon  after  which  the  political  horizon 
began  to  wear  a  brighter  aspect.  During  this  period  of  un- 
certainty and  alarm,  and  until  the  cessation  of  hostilities, 
when  the  glorious  star  of  freedom  arose  upon  the  American 
Confederacy,  Miss  Bayley  was  almost  continually  under  the 
eye  of  her  father,  and  conceived  for  him  all  the  affection 
that  a  child  can  entertain  for  a  parent.  This  unbounded 


MRS.    £.   A.    SETON.  15 

attachment  she  manifested  in  various  ways.  Frequently, 
when  at  school,  she  would  learn  her  task  quickly,  repeat  it, 
and  then  watch  a  favorable  opportunity  of  eluding  the  vigi- 
lance of  her  preceptress,  in  order  to  run  down  the  street  to 
n-eet  her  father,  who  passed  that  way,  embrace  him,  and 
then  hasten  back  before  the  old  lady  could  notice  her  ab- 
sence. She  not  only  regarded  him  as  her  protector,  but, 
with  that  generous  disposition  which  knows  how  to  appre- 
ciate a  benefit,  she  repaid  his  anxiety  and  kindness  with  the 
practice  of  every  virtue  that  could  gratify  the  paternal  heart. 
Filial  piety  was  the  spring  of  all  her  actions — the  incentive 
to  all  her  exertions.  Though  incapable  of  understanding 
the  importance  of  study  at  her  tender  age,  she  valued 
her  scholastic  exercises  because  prescribed  by  her  father. 
"French  and  music  must  have  their  hours,"  said  he. 
This  was  sufficient  to  recommend  them,  and  to  excite  her 
diligent  application.  Such  was  the  veneration  and  affec- 
tion which  she  entertained  for  him,  that  on  no  one  occasion 
was  she  ever  known  to  oppose  his  will  or  disobey  him  in  the 
slightest  particular.  Nor  was  this  virtue  unrewarded  by 
Him  who  has  promised  a  rich  blessing  to  the  dutiful  and 
obedient  child.  Her  future  career  will  exhibit  a  striking 
verification  of  those  words  in  the  book  of  Ecclesiasticus : — 
"  Honor  thy  father  in  work  and  word,  and  all  patience,  that 
a  blessing  may  come  upon  thee  from  him,  and  his  blessing 
may  remain  in  the  latter  end."* 

With  amiable  qualities  of  heart  Miss  Bayley  united 
talents  of  a  superior  order.  Nature  had  endowed  her  with 
a  quick  and  comprehensive  mind,  a  sound  judgment,  and 
fertile  imagination ;  and  she  was  not  inactive  in  availing 
herself  of  the  best  opportunities  for  the  cultivation  of  her 
mental  powers  At  this  time,  America  offered  but  slendei 

*  Chap.  iii.  6. 


16  THE    LIFE    OP 

resourced  for  education  in  comparison  with  the  facilities 
which,  are  now  enjoyed.  The  few  seminaries  of  learning 
that  had  been  established  afforded  but  a  very  limited  course 
of  instruction,  and  even  these  were  closed  for  several  years 
during  the  stormy  period  of  the  Revolution.  Under  these 
circumstances,  Miss  Bayley  was  compelled  to  depend  prin- 
cipally upon  domestic  tuition  and  study  for  the  acquirement 
of  the  knowledge  suited  to  her  sex. 

Happily  she  possessed,  in  the  abilities  of  her  father,  a 
means  of  supplying  the  deficiency  in  the  usual  methods  of 
instruction ;  and,  under  his  direction,  with  a  natural  dispo- 
sition for  self-improvement,  she  applied  herself,  with  con- 
siderable success,  to  the  various  branches  of  female  educa- 
tion. Dr.  Bayley,  in  the  training  of  his  children,  looked 
much  more  to  the  formation  of  habits  which  would  result 
in  honorable  usefulness  in  after-life,  than  to  attainments  of  a 
less  solid  though  more  brilliant  kind.  His  penetrating  and 
observant  mind  easily  perceived,  as  he  remarks  in  one  of  his 
letters,  that  the  American  youth  were  naturally  given  to  a 
spirit  of  independence,  which,  impatient  of  control,  must 
become,  for  many,  a  by-way  to  certain  vexation  and  disap- 
pointment. Convinced  that  a  "brilliant  character  is  not 
always  a  solid  character,"  he  diligently  impressed  upon  the 
minds  of  those  under  his  charge  the  necessity  of  self-re- 
straint, reflection,  and  curtailment  of  pleasure,  as  the  only 
means,  however  disagreeable  at  first,  of  reaping  the  sweet 
fruits  of  happiness  in  maturer  years.  These  lessons  of  wis- 
dom were  carefully  reduced  to  practice  by  his  younger 
daughter;  and  to  the  due  and  assiduous  exercise  of  self-re- 
Btraint  may  be  attributed,  in  a  great  measure,  her  subse- 
quent triumph  over  the  series  of  trials  and  difficulties  which 
she  had  to  encounter  in  pursuing  the  course  marked  out  for 
her  by  divine  Providence. 

Wlule  this  disposition  contributed  vastly  to  preserve  her 


MRS.   E.   A.    6ETON.  17 

mind  and  heart  from  the  contamination  of  worldly  maxims, 
it  encouraged  that  inclination  to  piety  which  was  observable 
in  her  from  her  earliest  youth.*  Following  the  example  of 
those  around  her,  she  frequented  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  in  which  she  had  been  baptized  and  admitted  to 
what  the  members  of  that  denomination  term  the  ordinance 
of  confirmation.  The  religion  of  Miss  Bayley,  however, 
did  not  partake  of  that  ultra  Protestant  spirit  which  rejects 
every  practice  that  savors  in  the  least  of  Catholic  piety. 
She  wore  on  her  person  a  small  crucifix — the  emblem  of 
man's  redemption — and  was  often  heard  to  express  her  asto- 
nishment that  this  custom  was  not  more  prevalent  among 
persons  of  her  own  communion.  Bigotry  and  prejudice 
seem  to  have  found  no  admittance  into  her  mind.  Con- 
scientiously attached  to  her  own  religious  views,  she  knew 
how  to  respect  the  convictions  of  hei  neighbor,  and  even  to 
admire  among  them  the  existence  of  certain  institutions 
which  were  unknown  among  the  professors  of  her  own  par- 
ticular creed. f  One  of  the  principal  occupations  that 
afforded  her  pleasure  was  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 

*  When  we  speak  of  the  piety  or  religions  spirit  of  Miss  Bayley,  wt 
mean  simply  that  she  was  a  devout  worshipper  of  God  according  to  her 
views  of  religion ;  but  we  do  not  pretend  to  say  whether,  or  how  far,  hei 
interior  dispositions  were  acceptable  to  him.  Though  piety,  in  the  pro- 
per acceptation  of  the  term,  can  be  found,  in  its  full  and  explicit  form, 
only  among  those  who  belong  to  the  external  communion  of  the  Church, 
it  is  not  impossible  for  it  to  exist  implicitly,  in  some  cases,  out  of  that 
external  communion;  for  instance,  among  young  persons  who,  though 
born  of  heterodox  parents,  hare  been  validly  baptized,  and  have  nevei 
renounced  the  disposition  then  received  to  be  governed  by  the  teaching 
of  their  legitimate  pastors.  See  Catholic  theologians  pattim. 

f  In  the  course  of  her  reading  she  occnsionally  met  with  descriptions 
of  convents,  and  regretted  that  such  establishments  were  not  to  be  found 
among  Protestant1;.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  that  the  early  admiration  of  thii 
youthful  Episcopalian  for  the  conventual  life  resulted  in  her  becoming 
herself,  at  a  later  period,  the  foundress  of  a  similar  institution. 
2*  tt 


18  THE    LIFE    OF 

tures.  From  the  sublime  instructions  imparted  by  the 
gacred  penmen,  she  derived  the  most  salutary  knowledge 
for  the  regulation  of  her  sentiments  and  actions.  The 
papers  which  she  has  left  afford  ample  evidence  that  she 
took  delight  in  transcribing  comments  and  reflections  upt  n 
different  portions  of  the  sacred  volume,  and  that  she  had 
become  familiar  with  its  contents,  especially  the  Book  of 
Psalms.  The  fervent  effusions  of  the  inspired  bard  were 
peculiarly  congenial  to  her  naturally  ardent  temperament; 
and  she  frequently  quoted  passages  from  them  in  her  letters 
and  other  writings.  To  this  practice,  and  to  her  natural 
rectitude  and  strength  of  mind,  we  may  attribute  the  re- 
markable self-control  which  she  exhibited  in  her  intercourse 
with  society.  Surrounded  by  all  the  charms  of  gay  and 
fashionable  life,  Miss  Bayley  did  not  allow  herself  to  be 
dazzled  by  brilliant  appearances.  From  a  written  exposi- 
tion of  her  thoughts  and  dispositions,  rs  they  manifested 
themselves  to  her  on  a  Sunday  evening,  when  she  reviewed 
the  manner  in  which  the  day  had  been  passed,  it  is  plain 
that  she  scrutinized  her  actions  with  a  singular  penetration, 
and  according  to  a  standard  of  excellence  which  is  rarely 
held  in  view  by  young  ladies  who  possess  every  facility  for 
mingling  in  the  amusements  and  dissipation  of  the  world. 
After  tracing  the  vagaries  of  her  mind  during  the  course 
of  the  day,  and  the  distractions  which  she  had  met  with  at 
her  devotions,  which  were  partly  caused  by  the  attentions 
of  a  gentleman  who  at  that  time  had  a  prospect  of  her 
hand  in  marriage,  she  examines  in  what  manner  her  time 
should  have  been  distributed;  reflecting  that  she  might 
have  turned  it  to  greater  profit,  if  it  had  been  devoted  more 
particularly  to  retirement  and  prayer.  "  The  consequence 
would  have  been,"  she  adds,  "I  would  have  been  pleased 

with  myself;   M would  have  been  pleased  with  me; 

even  they  to  whom  the  sacrifice  was  made  would  have  liked 


MBS.    E.   A.    SETON.  19 

me  better;  and,  the  heavenly  consideration,  my  God  would 
have  blessed  me." 

We  shall  furnish  another  extract  from  this  self-examina- 
tion, written  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  which  will  show  how 
much  importance  she  attached  to  the  proper  disciplining  of 
her  mind  and  actions,  not  merely  with  a  view  to  follow  the 
dictates  of  reason,  but  from  motives  of  religion.  Consider 
ing  that  she  possessed  a  very  lively  disposition,  we  shall  be 
inclined  to  think  that  the  imperfection  of  which  she  speaks 
was  comparatively  of  little  moment,  though  she  deemed  it 
worthy  of  serious  attention.  "There  is  a  certain  temper  I 
am  sometimes  subject  to — it  is  not  sullen  ness  or  absolute 
discontent,  'tis  a  kind  of  melancholy;  still,  I  like  it  better 
than  those  effusions  of  cheerfulness,  that  hilarity  of  spirits, 
which  a  good  night's  rest  and  a  fine  morning  often  inspire. 
I  prefer  the  sadness,  because  I  know  it  may  be  removed ;  it 
may  change  to  cheerfulness.  The  gayety,  I  am  sure,  will 
change  to  sadness  before  the  day  ends,  and  perhaps  to  sor- 
row; 'tis  not  the  natural  temper,  but  the  influence  of  situa- 
tion. I  trust  the  day  will  come  when  I  may  show  a  more 
regular  and  Christian  disposition.  Perhaps  it  may ;  it  may 
not.  Those  passions  must  be  governed.  I  have  a  most  un- 
accountable wish  to  see  E this  morning,  but  I  will  not 

go  a  step  out  of  my  way.  If  fortune  should  so  direct,  1 
think  I  should  be  very  grateful ;  if  not,  I  will  try  and  think 
that  'tis  best/* 

With  this  command  over  herself,  and  a  constant  eye  t 
the  cultivation  of  the  most  elevated  principles  of  conduct, 
Miss  Bayley  had  shielded  herself  effectually  against  a  dan- 
ger which  is  too  often  incurred  before  its  consequences  are 
foreseen, — that  of  forming  injudiciously  a  matrimonial  alli- 
ance. A  matter  bearing  so  closely  upon  her  happiness,  and 
involving  so  much  responsibility,  received  from  her  virtuoui 
and  penetrating  mind  all  the  consideration  which  it  merited 


20  THE    LIFE    0V 

On  the  other  hand,  the  excellence  of  character  which  sh« 
aimed  at  could  not  fail  to  be  appreciated  by  virtuous  and 
discerning  minds,  and  to  aid  materially  in  effecting  a  union 
which  would  contribute  to  her  earthly  happiness.  In  hei 
personal  appearance,  Miss  Bayley  was  of  rather  low  sta- 
ture, but  her  figure  was  well  proportioned  and  her  move- 
ments graceful.  A  perfect  symmetry  was  displayed  in  her 
features,  which,  with  the  sparkling  yet  mild  expression  of 
her  eye,  rendered  her  countenance  the  mirror  of  a  noble 
and  intelligent  soul.  Possessing  an  uncommon  degree  of 
vivacity  and  cheerfulness,  she  used  it  with  tact  and  modera- 
tion, for  the  charm  of  those  around  her.  In  the  twentieth 
year  of  her  age,  she  accepted  the  hand  of  Mr.  William 
Seton,  a  highly  respectable  merchant  in  the  city  of  New 
York.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  and  a  gentleman  of  amiable  disposition  and  en- 
gaging manners.  His  family  enjoyed  the  highest  character 
and  standing.00  A  portion  of  his  early  life  he  had  spent  in 
a  mercantile  house  at  Leghorn — a  circumstance  which  the 
subsequent  history  of  his  wife  will  show  to  have  been  a  dis- 
pensation of  divine  Providence  for  the  spiritual  benefit  of 
herself,  her  family,  and  the  innumerable  souls  who  would 
be  led  by  her  example  into  the  way  of  salvation.  At  this 
period,  however,  she  little  imagined  that  her  religious  views 
would  ever  be  exchanged  for  the  doctrines  of  the  Cathclic 
Church.  Her  early  education,  and  the  recent  connection 
she  had  formed  with  a  strictly  Episcopalian  family,  both 
wedded  her  to  the  Protestant  system,  and  it  may  be  truly 
said  that  she  was  a  rigid  observer  of  its  principles  and 
forms. 

At  the  time  of  her  marriage,  Mrs.  Seton  beheld  a  prospect 
of  the  most  flattering  description  before  her.  Her  husband's 
affairs  were  in  a  flourishing  condition,  and,  surrounded  as 
ghe  was  by  a  numerous  circle  of  admiring  friends,  she  had 


MRS     E.    A.    S  ETON.  21 

reason  to  expect,  from  the  new  alliance  she  had  formed, 
every  temporal  happiness  that  can  be  realized  on  this 
side  of  the  grave.  Divine  Providence,  however,  did  not 
permit  her  to  be  dazzled  by  the  fair  scenes  of  enjoyment 
around  her.  The  ordeal  which  he  had  in  reserve  for  her  at 
a  later  period  of  life  demanded  a  thorough  training  of  her 
mind  and  heart,  and  could  be  met  successfully  only  by  one 
who  had  learned  the  practice  of  patience  and  resignation 
under  the  trying  dispensations  of  Heaven,  and  had  the 
moral  energy  to  set  aside  the  vain  considerations  of  this 
earth  whenever  conflicting  with  the  higher  interests  of  an 
immortal  life.  We  accordingly  find  her  on  all  occasions 
deeply  impressed  with  the  truth  of  an  all-wise  and  over- 
ruling Providence,  and  possessing  a  lively  sense  of  the  duty 
of  submission  to  the  afflictions  of  life.  The  first  year  of 
her  marriage,  in  the  summer  of  1794,  Mr.  Seton's  business 
having  called  him  to  Philadelphia,  where  the  yellow  fever 
had  made  its  appearance,  she  writes  to  him  in  a  strain  of 
affectionate  solicitude,  not  a  little  increased  by  the  appre- 
hension of  the  danger  to  which  he  was  exposed ;  but  her 
fears  do  not  degenerate  into  excess;  she  moderates  them, 
and  sustains  her  fortitude  by  the  reflection  that  "  patience 
and  submission  are  the  only  way  to  gain  the  blessings  of 
Heaven."  In  a  letter  to  one  of  her  relations,  to  whom  she 
was  united  by  the  closest  ties  of  friendship,  she  furnishes 
another  evidence  of  the  supernatural  view  which  she  was 
accustomed  to  take  of  passing  occurrences,  while  she  ex- 
hibits, at  the  same  time,  the  self-control  and  wisdom  which 
she  exercised  in  the  correspondence  with  her  friends.  "I 
received  your  letter  of  the  22d  September.  Although  1 
make  it  a  rule  never  to  answer  letters  while  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  first  impressions  I  receive  from  them,  I  can- 
not refrain  from  immediately  replying  to  it — and  it  is  not  a 
very  easy  task  to  preserve  my  usual  sincerity  with  you ;  but 


22  THE    LIFE    OF 

I  believe  even  that  is  best,  for  my  mitl  is  in  a  state  of 
anxiety  and  distress  which  does  not  admit  of  any  calcula- 
tions respecting  the  enjoyments  of  this  life.  In  one  short 
week,  sisters,  friends,  and  the  whole  world,  may  be  nothing 
to  me.  There  neyer  passes  a  day  but  some  family  is  de- 
prived of  its  support,  children  of  their  parents,  and  the 
wife  of  her  husband,  even  in  the  number  of  my  acquaint- 
ance. My  William  goes  every  day  to  town,*  and  is  mora 
exposed  than  many  who  have  lost  their  lives;  that  he 
should  escape  depends  on  that  mercy  which  has  never  yet 
failed,  and  which  I  have  reason  to  bless  every  hour  of  my 
life."  On  another  occasion,  addressing  the  same  friend, 
whose  society  she  loved  to  enjoy,  she  displayed  a  spirit  of 
faith  and  resignation  which  is  seldom  witnessed  in  the  rn- 
tercourse  of  persons  blessed  with  every  worldly  comfort. 
She  observes,  "We  are  not  always  to  have  what  we  like  best 
in  this  world,  thank  Heaven !  for,  if  we  had,  how  soon  we 
should  forget  the  other,  the  place  of  endless  peace,  where 
they  who  were  united  by  virtue  and  affection  here  will  surely 
enjoy  that  union  so  often  interrupted  while  on  their  journey 
home !"  The  expression  of  those  sentiments  was  not  a 
casual  thing  with  Mrs.  Seton,  or  the  effect  of  circumstances 
that  awakened  in  her  bosom  an  occasional  outburst  of  reli- 
gious feeling;  it  was  at  all  times  the  image  of  her  mind 
and  heart,  the  result  of  an  habitual  attention  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  highest  principles  of  moral  conduct.  Hers  waa 
one  of  those  favored  souls  that  are  borne  up  by  their  own 
natural  impulses  to  the  love  and  pursuit  of  what  is  right; 
and  this  disposition,  aided  by  study  and  reflection,  gave  to 
her  sentiments  and  aspirations  a  tone  of  uncommon  purity 
and  virtue,  which  manifested  itself  in  all  her  writings.  Her 

*  She  writes  from  Craigdon,  a  seat  in  the  country,  October,  1799,  the 
yellow  fever  prevailing  at  the  time  in  New  York  City  and  causing  th* 
ravages  which  she  describes. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETOIf.  2fc 

nhid  was  of  a  superior  order,  but  it  was  not  less  prone  it 
the  indulgence  of  pious  meditation  than  it  was  active  and 
intelligent.  Those  hours  which  she  could  snatch  from  hei 
domestic  and  social  duties  were  frequently  employed  in  com- 
muning with  God,  in  the  perusal  of  the  Holy  Scripture*, 
and  in  meditating  upon  the  sublime  truths  of  the  Christiac 
religion.  Hence  her  invariable  practice  of  throwing  inU 
her  letters  and  notes  some  allusion  to  the  great  maxims  ol 
svangelical  morality.  If  she  adverted  to  the  prosperous 
and  joyful  scenes  of  life,  they  caused  her  heart  to  expanu 
in  gratitude,  and  reminded  her  of  more  perfect  and  more 
lasting  enjoyments  in  a  future  world.  If  adversity  was  the 
theme  of  her  remarks,  it  turned  her  tLougnts  upon  the  onlj 
true  remedy  of  earthly  trials,  the  happy  exchange  of  tran- 
sient suffering  for  eternal  felicity.  The  following  extract 
from  her  devotions,  in  the  year  1798,  may  serve  as  a  speci- 
men of  the  prayers  which  she  addressed  to  God  : — 

"Almighty  Giver  of  all  mercies!  Father  of  all,  who 
knowest  my  heart  and  pitiest  its  weakness  and  errors,  thou 
knowest  the  desire  of  my  soul  is  to  do  thy  will ;  it  struggles 
to  wing  its  flight  to  thee,  its  Creator,  and  sinks  again  in 
sorrow  for  that  imperfection  which  draws  it  back  again  to 
earth.  How  long  shall  I  contend  with  sin  and  mortality  ? 
When  will  that  hour  arrive  which  will  free  the  troubled 
spirit  from  its  prison,  and  change  the  shadows  of  this  life 
for  immortality  and  endless  happiness  ?  I  bow  to  thee,  my 
God  !  in  cheerful  hope  that,  confiding  in  thy  infinite  mercy 
and  assisted  by  thy  powerful  grace,  I  shall  soon  arrive  to 
that  hour  of  unspeakable  joy.  But  if  it  is  thy  will  the 
spirit  shall  yet  contend  with  its  dust,  assist  me  to  conduct 
myself  through  this  life  as  not  to  render  it  an  enemy,  but  a 
conductor  to  that  happy  state  where  all  mortal  contentions 
are  done  away,  and  where  thy  eternal  presence  will  bestow 
eternal  felicity." 


24  THE    LIFTS    OF 

In  the  subjoined  prayer  she  pours  forth  her  gratitude  U 
God  for  the  protection  vouchsafed  to  her  and  hers  while  so 
many  others  were  carried  off  by  the  stroke  of  death.  She 
most  probably  alludes  to  the  ravages  of  the  yellow  fever. 
The  noblest  return  is  made  for  the  favors  of  Heaven,  in  an 
increased  determination  to  walk  in  the  path  of  the  divine 
commandments. 

"  With  pity,  0  Lord,  look  down  upon  thy  servant.  Thy 
mercy  is  boundless;  thou  hast  preserved  our  souls  from 
death  while  thousands  fall  around  us.  Thou  hast  given  us 
every  good  while  others  are  visited  with  sorrows  and  afflic- 
tions ;  and  shall  not  my  soul  praise  thee  for  this  unmerited 
goodness  ?  Shall  it  now  fall  into  sin  and  neglect  of  thee, 
its  preserver?  Will  it  rather  suffer  the  bondage  of  sin 
than  be  thy  servant?  Oh,  how  it  pants,  it  longs  to  fit  itself 
for  thy  acceptance;  but,  chained  in  the  service  of  the 
enemy,  it  falls  from  its  native  glory  and  grovels  in  the  dust. 
Let  thy  mercy  assist  the  endeavor  of  thy  servant;  grant 
but  the  smallest  portion  of  thy  grace,  and  I  shall  be  free. 
0  Almighty  Father!  0  Blessed  Spirit,  comforter  of  thg 
sick  and  sorrowing  soul !  0  Saviour  eternal,  Redeemer  of 
sinners,  who  gavest  thy  life  to  save  us,  assist  a  miserable 
sinner  who  strives  with  corruption  of  sin,  and  desires  above 
all  things  to  break  the  snares  of  the  enemy.  I  am,  0  Lord  ! 
like  one  in  the  net  of  the  fowler ;  set  me  now  at  liberty ; 
cleanse  me  and  fit  me  for  thy  presence,  and  the  soul  that 
now  sorrows  shall  rejoice." 

Mrs.  Seton  had  so  assiduously  cultivated  the  sentiments 
contained  in  the  foregoing  addresses  to  the  Throne  of  Grace, 
that  she  seems  never  to  have  laid  them  aside  for  other  con- 
victions, though  it  must  be  admitted  that  her  Christian 
principles  were  at  one  time  much  exposed  to  be  shaken  by 
the  familiar  acquaintance  which  she  had  formed  with  the 
works  of  the  French  philosopher,  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau 


MRS.   E.   A.    8 ETON.  25 

In  the  year  1799  she  became  so  enamored  of  bis  writings, 
that,  as  she  expresses  it  herself,  every  half  hour  she  could 
catch  went  to  Emilius.  She  was  particularly  pleased  with 
his  religious  views.  Voltaire's  writings  were  also  partially 
known  to  her;  and  it  may  be  safely  affirmed  that  without 
the  special  protection  of  divine  Providence  her  mind  would 
have  become  deeply  infected  with  the  fatal  errors  of  those 
pestilential  authors,  who  insinuate  the  poison  of  irreligion 
with  a  brilliancy  of  thought  and  charm  of  language  that 
have  too  often  unhappily  seduced  the  incautious  reader. 
But  Mrs.  Seton's  admiration  of  Rousseau  appears  to  have 
extended  chiefly,  if  not  altogether,  to  those  parts  of  his 
works  which  pay  a  forced  but  not  less  eloquent  tribute  to 
revealed  truth.  At  all  events,  if  her  religious  views  were 
in  any  degree  affected  by  the  withering  opinions  of  infi- 
delity, she  must  have  remained  in  this  state  of  mind  for  a 
very  short  time ;  as  her  writings,  subsequent  to  the  period 
of  which  we  speak,  breathe  a  spirit  of  Christian  piety  equal 
to,  if  not  more  fervent  than,  that  of  her  previous  life.  On 
the  31st  of  December,  in  the  same  year,  we  find  her  in- 
dulging in  a  religious  meditation,  of  which  she  has  left  us 
a  succinct  but  beautiful  account.  She  thus  describes  tha 
situation  of  her  body  and  mind  on  the  last  day  of  the  ex- 
piring year :  "  Sitting  on  a  little  bench  before  the  fire,  the 
head  resting  on  the  hand,  the  body  perfectly  easy,  the  eyes 
closed,  the  mind  serene,  contemplating  and  tracing  bound- 
less mercy  and  the  source  of  all  excellence  and  perfection 
— how  pure  the  enjoyment,  and  sweet  the  transition  of 
every  thought !  The  soul  expands,  all  earthly  interests  re- 
cede, and  heavenly  hopes  become  anxious  wishes.  Might 
lot  these  mortal  bonds  be  gently  severed — loosed  more 
.•a^ily  than  untying  the  fastening  of  a  fine  thread — at  this 
moment,  without  any  perceptible  change,  to  find  the  soul  at 
liberty.  Heavenly  Mercy!  in  thy  presence?  And  would  it 


26  THE    LIFE    Of 

not  tremble,  or  rather  is  it  not  forevei  inder  thy  tnspeo 
tion  ?  Can  it  be  concealed  from  thee  ?  No ;  thou  now 
perceivest  it  oppressed,  weighed,  sinking  under  its  mortal 
burden ;  and  also  thou  seest  it  can  patiently  submit  to  thy 
will,  adoring  in  surest  confidence  of  thy  mercy.  Preserve 
me  but  this  heavenly  peace ;  continue  to  me  this  privilege, 
beyond  all  mortal  computation,  of  resting  in  thee  and  ado'r. 
ing  thee,  my  Father,  Friend,  and  never-failing  support.  For 
this  alone  I  implore :  let  all  other  concerns,  with  their  con- 
sequences, be  entirely  and  wholly  submitted  to  thee."* 

It  might  be  supposed,  from  the  religious  tone  which  Mrs. 
Seton  introduced  into  her  letters,  that  she  had  fallen  into 
the  use  of  that  disagreeable  cant  and  rigid  formalism  that 
ilmost  invariably  distinguish  the  devotee  who  is  not  enlight- 
ened by  the  true  faith.  This,  however,  was  far  from  being 
the  case.  The  religion  of  Mrs.  Seton  was  not  of  an  obtru- 
sive or  sullen  nature.  Possessing  a  singular  vivacity  of  dis- 
position, and  an  equal  sense  of  propriety,  she  knew  how  to 
accommodate  herself  to  circumstances.  If,  on  suitable  occa- 
sions, in  corresponding  with  her  friends,  she  deemed  it  ad- 
visable to  indulge  a  strain  of  serious  thought,  or  to  mingle 
with  commonplace  matters  a  well-turned  allusion  to  maxima 
of  moral  guidance,  at  other  times  she  pursued  a  different 
course,  adopting  the  vein  of  humor  to  which  she  was  par- 
ticularly inclined.  She  thus  writes  to  her  father,  who  was 
at  Albany,  in  February,  1799  :  "  Should  you  be,  in  your  re- 
tirement, unoccupied  by  the  cares  and  solicitudes  that  gene- 
rally accompany  you,  a  letter  from  your  daughter  will  be 
very  acceptable;  if  otherwise,  it  will  be  read  in  haste,  and 
the  idea,  '  Bett  is  a  goose/  will  pass  your  mind.  I  send  it 
to  take  its  chance,  hoping,  as  the  children  say,  it  may  find 

*  In  looking  over  this  manuscript,  after  she  had  become  a  Catholic 
when  her  piety  was  the  result  of  better  light  and  knowledge,  she  ex 
claimed,  "Oh,  bow  different  now  !  Ob,  praise  and  eternal  gratitid* 


MRS.    E.    A     8  ETON.  27 

you  well,  aa  I  am  the  same.  It  is  currently  reported  that 
yor  are  gone  to  New  London  to  inquire  into  the  origin  of 
the  fever,  and  that  you  are  to  proceed  to  Boston  to  see  your 
children.  But  I  hope  you  will  very  soon  return,  and  con- 
vince tin  ladies  who  chatter  on  the  subject  that  the  origin 
i0  not  the  object  of  your  pursuit,  but  the  remedy." 

Some  months  later,  she  addresses  her  father  in  the  fol- 
lowing language,  which  exhibits  the  sprightliness  of  her  dis- 
position, and,  ai1  the  same  time,  establishes  her  claim  to  con- 
siderable merit  in  the  epistolary  style :  "  My  very  dear  Mr. 
Monitor:  That  you  are  in  the  enjoyment  of  health  in  the 
midst  of  dangers,  toil',  and  death,  is  a  subject  of  high  exul- 
tation to  me ;  and  if  the  prayers  of  a  good,  quiet  little  female 
are  supposed  to  be  of  any  avail,  it  will  be  long  continued  to 
you,  with  the  hope  that  the  visual  rays  of  our  fellow-citizens 
will  in  time  be  brightened  by  your  labors,  and  their  atten- 
tion awakened  by  the  voice  of  tmth  and  conscience.  I  had 
the  pleasure  to  hear  a  Mr.  Delmas,  a  French  physician,  re- 
fer a  number  of  strangers,  both  French  and  English,  to  a 
publication,  called  the  Monitor,*  as  the  best  thing  written 
on  the  subject  of  yellow  fever,  and  a&  the  only  one  that 
points  out  its  true  cause  and  origin.  He  said  he  did  not 
know  who  was  the  author,  but  he  must  be  the  best  friend 
of  humanity,  and  should  be  considered  by  the  Americans  as 
their  best  adviser.  I  imagine  my  eyes  were  krger  and 
blacker  at  that  moment  than  usual.  If  you  would  some- 
times direct  Helen's  f  pen  to  Bloomingdale,  it  would  be  a 
most  grateful  substitute  for  your  own,  which  I  cannot  ex- 
pect to  claim  in  this  season  of  occupation." 

The  cheerfulness  of  Mrs.  Seton's  disposition,  united  witl 
a  profoundly  religious  sentiment,  contributed  much  to  sup 

*  Written  by  Dr.  Baylcy,  father  of  Mrs.  Seton.     For  this  rsason  ih« 
Addresses  him  at  the  commencement  of  this  letter  aa  "  Mr.  Monitor  " 
f  A  step-sister  of  Mrs.  Seton. 


28  THE    LIFE    OF 

port  her  under  the  trials  which  are  the  general  attendant* 
of  domestic  life,  as  well  as  those  which  may  be  termed  the 
particular  dispensations  of  Providence.  About  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year  1800,  her  husband's  temporal  affairs  had  be- 
come very  much  embarrassed,  owing  to  the  French  spolia- 
tions and  the  usual  vicissitudes  of  mercantile  life,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  tide  of  prosperity  was  soon  to  stop  for  him 
and  his  family.  In  the  midst  of  these  difficulties  Mrs.  Seton 
proved  herself  the  devoted  wife,  by  sharing  the  trials  of  her 
husband  and  exerting  herself  as  far  as  she  could  to  dimi- 
nish the  unhappy  influence  which  such  a  situation  is  apt  to 
exercise  upon  the  mind.  During  an  entire  week,  she  spent 
most  of  the  night  in  assisting  her  husband  in  arranging  his 
papers.  But  the  fortitude  and  resignation  which  she  evinced 
under  this  dispensation  of  Providence  are  equally  worthy  of 
remark.  She  observed  to  a  friend  that  it  would  never  do  for 
hearts  and  fortunes  to  sink  together.  When  things  had  as- 
sumed the  most  unfavorable  aspect,  and  one  loss  appeared 
only  to  be  the  harbinger  of  additional  misfortunes,  she  knew 
how  to  possess  her  soul  in  patience  and  to  trust  in  Him  who 
directs  all  the  events  of  life  for  the  wisest  ends.  She  did 
not  suffer  her  mind  to  dwell  on  these  topics,  so  far  as  they 
tended  to  disturb  the  peace  of  her  soul,  for  she  always  found 
a  source  of  consolation  in  the  sentiments  awakened  by  the 
practice  of  the  Christian  virtues.  She  thus  speaks,  in  a  let- 
ter to  her  sister-in-law,  of  Mr.  Seton's  difficulties :  "  How  I 
wish  I  could  write  you  a  long  letter,  without  saying  one 
word  of  affairs,  for  in  their  present  state  they  are  too  melan- 
choly to  think  about,  and  that  not  from  any  impression  I 
have  received  from  my  William,  for  never  did  a  mortal  beai 
misfortune  and  all  the  aggravated  distress  of  it  with  30  much 
firmness  and  patience  as  he  does.  I  say  aggravated,  for  ves- 
sel after  vessel  arrives,  and  correspondents  in  London  and 
Hamburg  notify  him  that  his  bills  are  refused,  and  his  pro- 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  29 

perty  detained  there,  and  not  one  line  of  explanation  eithei 
good  or  bad;  and  here  we  are,  with  funds  detained  on  one 
side  the  water  and  transferred  the  other,  for  he  is  obliged 
tc  make  over  every  thing  in  trust  to  his  friends,  nothing 
coming  in,  and  one  suit  already  against  him  gives  but  too 
much  reason  to  expect  more;  but  it  is  all  in  vain  to  thini 
about  it :  patience  is  the  only  choice." 

The  following  prayer,  which  seems  to  relate  to  the  same 
embarrassments,  shows  the  strength  of  mind  which  she  ex- 
hibited under  the  trials  of  her  situation :  "The  cup  that  our 
Father  has  given  us,  shall  we  not  drink  it?  0  blessed  Sa- 
viour !  by  the  bitterness  of  thy  pains  we  may  estimate  the 
force  of  thy  love :  we  are  sure  of  thy  kindness  and  compas- 
sion :  thou  wouldst  not  willingly  call  on  us  to  suffer :  thou 
hast  declared  unto  us  that  all  things  shall  work  together  for 
our  good,  if  we  are  faithful  to  thee,  and  therefore,  if  thou  so 
ordainest  it,  welcome  disappointment  and  poverty,  welcome 
sickness  and  pain,  welcome  even  shame  and  contempt  and 
calumny.  If  this  be  a  rough  and  thorny  path,  it  is  one 
which  thou  hast  gone  before  us.  Where  we  see  thy  foot- 
steps, we  cannot  repine.  Meanwhile,  thou  wilt  support  us 
with  the  consolation  of  thy  grace,  and  even  here  thou  canst 
more  than  compensate  us  for  any  temporal  sufferings,  by  the 
possession  of  that  peace  which  the  world  can  neither  give 
nor  take  away."  July  25, 1801.  While  Mrs.  Seton  bowed 
with  an  humble  submission  to  the  trials  she  experienced,  she 
did  not  neglect  to  turn  the  thoughts  of  her  husband  upon 
objects  of  greater  moment  than  the  things  of  this  world.  In 
a  letter  to  him,  after  alluding  to  his  business,  she  adds: 
"  Excuse  your  saucy  wife,  who  is  too  busy  with  your  mer- 
cantile affairs.  If  I  could  have  an  influence  in  those  I  am 
really  anxiously  interested  in,  which  relate  to  another  cause, 
[  should  be  too  happy  ever  to  vex  you  with  what  are  the 
trifles  of  a  day  in  comparison  " 

3» 


80  THE    LIFE    0? 

They  who  have  ever  felt  the  pressure  of  adversity  wiL 
readily  understand  the  happiness  of  a  family  that  possessed 
a  guiding  spirit  like  Mrs.  Seton,  whose  words  were  invariably 
those  of  comfort,  and  who  never  failed  to  discover  in  the 
higher  considerations  of  religious  truth  a  solace  and  com- 
pensation for  the  passing  evils  of  life.  In  this  way  the 
burden  of  affliction  was  lightened,  and  every  bosom  became 
animated  with  brighter  hopes. 

At  the  period  of  which  we  are  speaking,  Mrs.  Seton  was 
the  mother  of  four  children : — Anna  Maria,  William,  Richard, 
and  Catharine  Josephine.  In  the  midst  of  this  infant  group, 
which  presented  to  the  parent's  eye  all  that  the  fondest 
affection  could  desire,  she  found  opportunities  of  exercising 
virtues  which  are  equally  essential  and  ornamental  in  the 
domestic  circle.  No  love  could  exceed  that  of  Mrs.  Seton 
for  the  children  whom  Providence  had  confided  to  her  care  j 
but  it  was  a  love  elevated  and  enhanced  by  the  reflection 
that  they  constituted  an  important  charge,  for  which  she 
would  be  accountable  to  God.  Hence,  while  she  carefully 
watched  over  their  temporal  welfare,  she  was  still  more  soli- 
citous for  the  formation  of  their  minds  and  hearts  to  the 
knowledge  and  esteem  of  virtuous  principles.  Not  only  did 
she  teach  their  youthful  lips  to  praise  God  and  invoke  his 
blessings;  she  availed  herself  of  every  opportunity  to  impress 
upon  them  this  obligation,  as  well  as  the  other  duties  of 
which  they  were  capable.  Sometimes  she  would  send  them 
little  notes,  in  which  the  assurance  of  maternal  affection 
would  invariably  be  mingled  with  the  words  of  salutary  in- 
struction, but  conveyed  in  a  form  at  once  so  natural  and  at- 
tractive that  they  could  not  fail  to  produce  a  most  happy  and 
lasting  impression.  Her  tact  in  this  respect  was  remarkable. 
In  a  note  to  her  two  boys  on  a  certain  occasion,  after  ex- 
pressing her  fond  attachment  for  them,  she  wins  them  still 
more  to  her  bosom,  and  to  a  regard  for  her  wishes,  by  re 


MRS.    £.   A.    SETOX.  31 

joicing  at  the  good  news  she  has  heard  of  them  respecting 
their  correct  deportment  and  their  attention  to  school ;  and, 
after  having  thus  secured  their  favorable  disposition  to  re- 
ceive advice,  she  exhorts  them  to  perseverance  in  good,  to 
pray  for  their  parents,  to  obey  their  superiors,  and  lastly 
urges  them  to  the  performance  of  their  duties  by  proposing 
the  highest  motives  of  conduct,  the  prospect  of  enjoying  the 
good-will  of  their  parents  and  obtaining  the  blessing  of  the 
Almighty.  On  the  birthday  of  her  eldest  daughter,  she 
thus  addresses  her : — 

"  MY  DEAR  ANNA  MARIA  : 

"  This  is  your  birthday,  the  day  that  1  first  held  you  in 
my  arms.  May  God  Almighty  bless  you,  my  child,  and 
make  you  his  child  forever.  Your  mother's  soul  prays  to 
him  to  lead  you  through  this  world,  so  that  we  may  come 
to  his  heavenly  kingdom  in  peace,  through  the  merits  of  our 
blessed  Saviour. 

"May  3,  1803." 

No  opportunity  was  neglected  of  imparting  to  her  offspring 
the  knowledge  and  the  fear  of  God.  The  subjoined  letter 
will  show  the  ardent  desire  of  Mrs.  Seton  for  their  virtuous 
training,  as  well  as  her  peculiar  skill  in  explaining  to  them 
the  morality  of  the  gospel : — 

"  My  dearest  Anna  must  remember  that  our  blessed  Lord 
^ave  us  the  parable  of  the  wise  and  foolish  virgins  to  make 
us  careful  to  choose  our  part  with  the  wise  ones,  and  to  keep 
in  readiness  for  his  coming,  which  will  be  in  an  hour  we 
know  not  of;  and  should  he  find  us,  dear  child,  out  of  the 
road  of  our  duty,  like  sheep  gone  astray  from  their  shepherd, 
where  shall  we  hide  from  his  presence  who  can  see  through 
the  darkest  shades  and  bring  us  from  the  farthest  ends  of 


32  THE    LIFE    Of 

the  world?  If  we  would  please  him,  and  be  found  among 
hia  children,  we  must  learn  what  our  duty  is,  pray  to  him 
for  grace  to  do  it,  and  then  set  our  whole  heart  and  soul  to 
perform  it.  And  what  is  your  duty,  my  dear  child?  You 
know  it,  and  I  pray  God  to  keep  you  in  it,  that,  in  that 
blessed  day  when  he  shall  come  to  call  us  to  our  heavenly 
home,  we  may  see  our  dear  Anna  in  the  number  of  those 
dear  children  to  whom  he  will  say,  '  Come,  yc  blessed  of  my 
Father/  Your  own  dear  Mother." 

From  what  has  been  said,  we  may  readily  infer  that  the 
affection  of  Mrs.  Seton  for  her  children,  although  ardent, 
was  of  that  pure  and  elevated  character  which  never  allowed 
it  to  degenerate  into  weak  condescension.  Convinced  of 
what  the  wise  man  teaches,  that  "  the  rod  and  reproof  give 
wisdom,  but  the  child  that  is  left  to  his  own  will  bringeth 
his  mother  to  shame,"*  she  did  not  fail  in  the  important 
duty  of  correction,  whenever  circumstances  seemed  to  re- 
quire it.  But  this  duty  on  her  part  was  not  the  effect  of 
excitement,  which  too  often  governs  the  parent  on  such  oc- 
casions and  destroys  the  efficacy  of  reproof.  It  was  the 
dictate  of  reason  and  religion,  which  aimed  only  at  the  re- 
formation of  evil,  and  adopted  the  most  effectual  measures 
for  the  attainment  of  this  end.  From  one  of  her  letters  to 
her  sister-in-law,  we  learn  a  circumstance  which  indicates 
no  ordinary  degree  of  wisdom  in  the  mother  of  a  family. 
"1  was  busy,"  she  says,  "with  poor  Anna,  in  the  garret 
closet,  and  afterward  took  her  to  the  highest  step  of  the 
ladder  that  leads  to  the  top  of  the  house,  to  make  her  feel 
that  the  promise  she  made  to  be  good  was  before  God,  who 
knows  all  we  say  and  do."  Her  experience  had  taught  her 
that  a  solemn  thought  is  greatly  heightened  by  viewing  th« 

•  Prov.  xxix.  15. 


MRS.    £.    A.    8ETON.  33 

heavens  m  open  space  without  an  intervening  object.  Bj 
such  means  did  the  lessons  of  truth  sink  deeply  into  the 
hearts  of  her  children,  and  strengthen,  from  day  to  day, 
their  love  and  veneration  for  a  parent  who  was  so  devoted 
to  their  real  happiness. 

Virtue,  firm  and  enlightened  as  hers,  could  not  but  spread 
ite  perfume  on  every  side.  All  within  the  sphere  of  her  ac- 
quaintance felt  its  beneficial  influence,  while  to  some  she 
was  even  a  mother  and  instructress.  She  thus  writes  to  one 
of  her  youthful  relatives : — "  Let  your  chief  study  be  to  ac- 
quaint yourself  with  God,  because  there  is  nothing  greater 
than  God,  and  because  it  is  the  only  knowledge  that  can  fill 
the  heart  with  a  peace  and  joy  which  nothing  can  disturb. 
Father  of  all  beings,  how  extensive  are  thy  mercies ! — how 
great,  how  inexpressible !  It  is  in  thee  we  live,  and  move, 
and  have  our  being.  The  lot  of  mortals  is  in  thy  hand;  they 
are  only  happy  through  thee.  Thy  paternal  cares  are  over  all 
mankind.  Thy  impartial  goodness  causes  the  sun  to  shine 
and  constant  blessings  to  descend  on  those  even  who  offend 
and  disobey  thee.  By  thy  command  the  dew  refreshes  the 
earth  and  the  zephyr  cools  and  revives  us;  thy  gifts  are  pro- 
portioned to  the  wants  of  thy  creatures,  but  the  righteous 
alone  feel  the  sweet  and  salutary  effects  of  thy  peace.  0  thou 
who  possessest  sovereign  power,  and  givest  life  and  enjoy 
ment  to  the  poorest  insect,  which  could  not  exist  a  moment 
but  by  thy  will,  permit  thy  creature  to  praise  and  bless  thee, 
and  let  me  forever  adore  thy  goodness  and  give  my  soul  to 
thy  service.  Blessed  Saviour,  who  gavest  thy  life  for  us, 
and  hast  done  every  thing  to  engage  our  love  and  gratitude, 
oh  let  me  never  be  so  unhappy  as  to  offend  or  disobey  thee 
wilfully.  Blessed  Shepherd  of  them  that  seek  thee,  oh  keep 
me  in  thy  fold — lead  me  iu  thy  paths;  let  me  always  hear 
and  love  thy  voice,  and  follow  thee  as  a  meek  and  quiet 
lamb,  making  it  the  care  of  my  life  to  keep  near  to  mf 


34  THE    LIFE    OF 

blessed  Master;  and  if  ever  I  should  lose  my  way,  or  for  » 
moment  be  so  unhappy  as  to  disobey  thy  commands,  oh,  call 
thy  wanderer  home." 

She  furnished  the  same  individual  with  a  method  of  morn- 
ing and  evening  prayer.  In  the  former,  thanks  are  returned 
to  God  for  the  favors  of  the  night,  and  his  blessing  is  im- 
plored for  the  day;  in  the  latter,  the  graces  of  Heaven  are 
again  acknowledged,  and  the  divine  mercy  invoked  upon 
herself,  her  friends,  and  relations. 

One  of  her  sisters-in-law,  having  received  some  prayers 
from  her  on  her  birthday,  which  were  sent  by  Mrs.  Seton 
as  a  friendly  counsel  to  prepare  herself  for  a  h&ppy  death, 
seemed  to  misunderstand  the  act  of  kindness,  imagining  that 
it  required  her  to  indulge  in  a  train  of  melancholy  thought. 
Mrs.  Seton  very  justly  remarked  to  her  that  these  reflections 
tended  to  tranquillize  the  mind  of  a  Christian.  "  Should 
we  make  a  practice,"  she  says,  "  of  considering,  with  calm 
and  dispassionate  meditation,  that  that  hour  must  come  to 
all,  whether  they  reflect  or  not — its  uncertainty  with  respect 
to  time — the  pains,  weakness,  and  often  extreme  anguish 
our  parting  nature  must  experience,  and,  what  is  still  worse, 
the  possibility  that  we  may  be  summoned  without  any  warn- 
ing at  all, — it  would  be  taking  no  more  precaution  than  we 
would  allow  to  the  commonest  events  of  life,  if  we  were  to 
allow  our  souls  a  few  minutes  every  day,  to  beg  for  mercy 
and  grace  in  that  momentous  hour.  ...  I  have  observed 
that  any  good  resolutions  or  exercises  begun  on  the  period 
of  our  birth  are  more  seriously  impressed;  and  I  chose  thij 
fcr  you  at  this  time,  as  reflecting  on  a  birthday  on  earth 
more  easily  transfers  our  thoughts  to  the  birthday  of  our 
future  existence;  and  it  is  very  useful  to  make  use  of  that 
day,  from  year  to  year,  to  examine  our  soul's  account  in  full 
— on  the  progress  we  have  made  in  approaching  that  heavenly 
example  of  perfection,"  &c.  This  extract  from  Mrs.  Seton '• 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  35 

letters  displays  a  degree  of  wisdom  rarely  met  with  in  the 
world,  and  shows  how  she  availed  herself  of  certain  occasions 
to  diffuse  among  others  that  virtue  which  she  practised  her- 
self In  the  following  advice  to  another  relative  we  have 
an  equally  remarkable  instance  of  the  store  she  set  upon 
firmness  of  principle.  She  tells  her  "  not  to  leave  home,  on 
tny  persuasion,  on  Sacrament  Sunday,  and  to  say  openly, 
whoever  may  request  it, '  that  it  is  her  rule.'  It  can  never," 
ehe  continues,  "  be  a  breach  of  civility,  or  seem  unkind, 
even  to  a  sister  or  the  dearest  friend,  if  you  say  it  with  the 
firmness  of  one  who  has  been  at  His  table  who  refreshes  and 
strengthens  the  soul  in  well-doing.  I  have  often  asked  my- 
self the  question, — why  should  any  one  be  more  earnest  in 
prevailing  with  me  for  a  trifle,  or  a  thing  of  no  consequence 
in  itself,  than  7  in  maintaining  the  thing  I  know  to  be  right 
and  that  touches  the  interest  of  my  soul's  peace '!"  Such 
was  her  unflinching  adherence  to  rules  of  moral  guidance, 
which  she  could  the  more  confidently  recommend  to  others 
as  she  observed  it  faithfully  herself. 

Mrs.  Seton  did  not  confine  her  charity  to  the  administer- 
ing of  good  advice ;  she  went  abroad  to  dispense  comfort  and 
relief  among  the  victims  of  misfortune.  She  was  an  active 
•uember  of  the  "  Widows'  Society  in  New  York," — the  bene- 
volent object  of  which  is  indicated  by  its  name;  and  such 
was  her  devotedness  to  the  service  of  the  poor,  that  she  and 
one  of  her  relatives,  who  was  commonly  associated  with  her 
on  errands  of  mercy,  were  called  Protestant  Sisters  of  Cha- 
rity. They  not  only  visited  those  who  were  in  want,  but 
labored  with  their  hands  to  increase  their  means  of  render- 
ing assistance.  Her  benevolent  efforts  in  behalf  of  the 
afflicted  are  thus  described  by  one  who  was  intimately  ac 
quainted  with  her  at  the  time : — "  Not  satisfied  with  a  for 
mal  profession  without  the  love  of  Gk>d  in  her  soul,  she  con- 
lidered  DO  sacrifice  too  great  to  promote  the  glory  of  her 


36  THE    LIFE    Of 

heavenly  Parent,  and  add  to  the  felicity  and  happiness  of 
her  fellow-creatures.  How  often  and  with  what  delight  hai 
she  explored  the  abodes  of  wretchedness,  to  administer  tern- 
poral  and  spiritual  comfort!  How  many  tears  of  joy  has  she 
caused  to  flow!  How  many  prayers  have  been  raised  to 
Heaven  for  her  welfare !  How  often  have  the  widow  and 
the  fatherless  blessed  her !" 

A  strict  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  she  united  in 
the  ceremony  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  it  is  called,  as  often 
as  she  had  an  opportunity,  and  with  an  ardor  and  enthusiasm 
not  frequently  witnessed  among  Protestants.  She  thus  de- 
scribes the  sentiments  with  which  she  communicated  at  the 
bedside  of  a  dying  friend,  Sept.  13,  1802 :— "  Was  called 
on  by  a  sufferer,  to  help  her  in  preparing  her  soul,  which 
seemed  on  the  point  of  departure  to  answer  the  call  of  its 
Creator.  Her  body,  which  had  been  long  in  the  struggles 
of  nature,  now  relieved  from  pain,  had  the  foretaste  of  its 
rest,  and  left  her  soul  at  liberty  to  seek  the  strength  of  the 
Redeemer,  and  to  desire  the  refreshment  he  has  provided 
for  sick  and  troubled  spirits.  These  hands  prepared  the 
blessed  table,  while  my  soul  and  that  of  my  soul's  sister 
united  with  hers  in  joyful  praise  for  our  precious  privilege — 
the  purchase  of  redeeming  love.  The  chosen,  blessed,  minis- 
tering servant  bids  us  to  the  feast,  gives  it  to  the  depart* 
ing  soul  as  its  passport  to  its  home — to  me  as  the  seal  of 
that  covenant  which  I  trust  will  not  be  broken  in  life  nor  in 
death,  in  time  nor  eternity.  Sweet,  sweet  communion  of 
souls!  Gracious  Lord,  may  it  be  endless  as  thy  mercy  1 
may  it  be  perfected  in  thee,  sustained  in  thy  truth,  and 
sanctified  by  thy  Spirit,  that,  growing  in  thy  likeness  and 
raised  up  in  thine  image,  we  shall  be  one  with  thee  eter- 
nally !"  Alluding  to  the  same  circumstance,  she  says : — "  Thia 
day,  I  trust,  is  noted  for  me  in  the  book  of  life,  and  oh  that 
the  blessings  received,  and  the  precious  privileges  I  have 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  87 

enjoyed  in  it,  may  be  the  incitement  to  a  faithful  discharge, 
through  divine  grace,  of  every  duty  which  my  dear  and  gra- 
cious Master  may  give  me  to  perform,  that  it  may  make  me 
his  own,  in  thought,  word,  and  deed,  forever— leading  me  to 
the  Supreme  Good — the  blessing  of  losing  myself  and  aD 
things  in  him."  It  is  related  of  Mrs.  'Seton,  that  such  waa 
the  profound  awe  awakened  in  her  by  the  communion,  that 
in  receiving  it  her  teeth  clattered  against  the  cup  which 
contained  the  elements.  Her  whole  mind  was  intently 
riveted  upon  the  act  she  was  performing,  endeavoring  to 
think  of  our  Saviour's  presence.  Such  was  her  fervor  in 
complying  with  this  rite,  that  after  the  service  she  would 
obtain  from  the  sexton  a  further  portion  of  the  elements, 
and  even  go  from  one  church  to  another,  in  order  to  repeat 
this  religious  act.  She  envied  the  happiness  of  the  Catholic 
who  believed  in  a  real  presence.  The  rite  of  baptism  also 
inspired  her  with  an  extraordinary  devotion.  Her  fifth 
child,  born  on  the  20th  of  August,  1802,  was  presented  at 
the  regenerating  font  on  the  feast  of  St.  Michael,  and  re- 
ceived the  name  of  Rebecca.  On  the  same  day,  Mrs.  Seton 
committed  to  paper  the  sentiments  that  arose  in  her  mind 
on  the  occasion,  and  we  place  them  before  the  reader  as  a 
model  for  the  Christian  parent. 

"  Wednesday,  St.  Michael?*  day,  1802. — This  day  my 
little  Rebecca  is  received  into  the  ark  of  our  Lord.  Sh« 
has  been  blessed  by  the  prayer  of  faith,  that  she  may  re- 
ceive the  fulness  of  his  grace,  and  remain  in  the  number  of 
his  faithful  children;  that,  being  steadfast  in  faith,  joyful 
through  hope,  and  rooted  in  charity,  she  may  pass  through 
the  waves  of  this  troublesome  world,  that  finally  she  may 
enter  the  land  of  everlasting  life.  Glory!  glory!  glory  be 
to  Hiiu,  who  lias  obtained  for  his  servant  these  inestimable 
privileges — to  enter  into  covenant  with  him — to  commune 
4 


88  THE    LIFE    Of 

with  his  Spirit — to  receive  the  blessing  of  our  reconciled 
Father — inheritors  in  his  kingdom  of  blessedness.  Blessed 
Lord,  can  we  be  forgetful  of  our  duty  to  thee — to  thee  who 
hast  purchased  all  for  us?  Oh  strengthen  us,  pity  our 
weakness,  be  merciful  to  us,  and,  as  thy  holy  angels  always 
do  thee  service  in  heaven,  give  us  grace  to  serve  thee  so 
faithfully  while  on  earth  that  we  may  hereafter  be  received 
into  their  blessed  society,  and  join  their  everlasting  alle- 
luiahg  in  thy  eternal  kingdom.  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that 
was  slain,  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and 
strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing.  Blessing, 
and  glory,  and  wisdom,  and  thanksgiving,  and  honor,  and 
power,  and  might,  be  unto  our  Grod  forever  and  ever. 
Amen." 

The  letters  and  other  writings  of  Mrs.  Seton  afford  many 
other  evidences  of  the  zeal  with  which  she  pursued  the  re- 
ligion in  which  she  had  been  educated;  but  we  have  said 
enough  to  render  it  unquestionable  that  she  was  a  fervent 
and  practical  advocate  of  piety,  according  to  her  own  under- 
standing of  the  subject,  and  inculcated  both  by  word  and 
example  those  high  principles  of  morality  which  made  her  a 
shining  member  of  the  church  to  which  she  belonged  and  a 
bright  ornament  in  the  social  and  domestic  circle.  To  ac- 
quire this  character  was  the  object  which  she  continually 
proposed  to  herself;  and  we  cannot  better  describe  than  in 
her  own  words  the  efforts  which  she  made  to  improve  her- 
self in  all  the  qualities  that  constitute  an  honorable  charac- 
ter and  useful  life.  In  a  letter  to  a  distant  friend,  she  says 
— "  Nor  can  I  ever  lament  the  season  of  youth,  for  that  of 
middle  age  is  much  more  desirable,  and  lasts  much  longer, 
particularly  if  it  prepares  the  way  to  honorable  old  age,  and 
accumulates  such  materials  as  will  make  that  happy  All 
my  leisure  hours  have  that  aim;  and  if  the  point  anticipated 


MRS.    £.    A.    SETON.  89 

u  never  reached,  it  certainly  fulfils  the  present  momenta  tc 
the  best  advantage,  and  if  their  memory  remains,  it  will  be 
a  source  of  the  greatest  pleasure." 

The  preceding  part  of  Mrs.  Seton's  history  embraces 
particularly  those  facts  which  exhibit  her  personal  worth  aa 
a  wife,  the  mother  of  a  family,  and  a  member  of  society  in 
general;  but  the  close  relations  which  she  continued  to 
maintain  with  her  father,  and  the  virtues  which  they  called 
into  action,  are  worthy  of  special  remark,  inasmuch  as  they 
contribute  more  fully  to  the  portrayal  of  her  character. 
The  private  worth  and  professional  distinction  of  Dr.  Bay- 
ley  concurred  to  merit  for  him  the  warmest  affection  and 
profoundest  respect  of  his  children,  while  the  valuable 
services  which  he  rendered  to  the  cause  of  science  and 
humanity  won  for  him  a  deserved  celebrity  in  Europe  as 
well  as  in  America. 

Having  completed  his  studies  in  England,  he  commenced 
the  practice  of  medicine  in  New  York,  and  soon  acquired 
distinction  by  his  successful  treatment  of  diseases  and  his 
skill  in  surgery.  He  was  the  first  to  discover  the  inflam- 
matory nature  of  the  croup, — on  which  he  published  a  work, 
— was  a  member  of  the  Medical  Faculty  of  Columbia  Col- 
lege from  its  commencement,  and  was  one  of  the  earlier 
promoters  of  the  New  York  Dispensary.  Having  devoted 
particular  attention  to  the  investigation  of  yellow  fever  and 
its  causes,  during  repeated  ravages  of  this  fearful  scourge, 
he  wrote  a  work  on  the  subject,  which  is  distinguished  for 
its  practical  and  sound  observations.  Appointed  health- 
physician  to  the  port  of  New  York,  he  became  chiefly  in- 
strumental in  procuring  the  enactment  of  the  state  quaran- 
tine laws,  and  successfully  contributed  to  obtain  similar 
regulations  from  the  general  government.* 

*  For  other  details  respecting  Dr.  Bayley,  see  Thacher's  America* 
Medical  Biography. 


40  THE    LIFE    0? 

While  Dr  Bayley  was  pursuing  a  profession  which,  with 
his  energetic  mind  and  active  habits,  subjected  him  to  the 
most  arduous  labors  and  exposed  his  life  to  the  most  immi- 
nent danger,  he  found  some  relief  from  his  daily  toils  in 
the  affectionate  regard  and  accomplished  society  of  hia 
daughter.  He  had  impressed  upon  the  minds  of  his  chil- 
dren, from  their  earliest  youth,  that  the  happiness  of  theii 
father  depended  upon  them;  and  the  lesson  was  acted  upon 
to  his  entire  satisfaction  by  Mrs.  Seton.  We  have  seen  how 
fondly  she  was  attached  to  him  in  childhood.  At  a  later 
period,  when  his  occupations  became  more  arduous  and  in- 
cessant, it  was  her  constant  aim  to  please  him  by  evidences 
of  filial  attachment.  Although  he  had  married  a  second 
time — a  circumstance  often  resulting  in  the  disturbance  of 
the  harmonious  relations  between  parent  and  child — she  lost 
nothing  of  that  fond  affection  which  she  had  always  enter- 
tained for  him.  In  this  she  only  corresponded  to  the  ten- 
der love  and  solicitude  which  he  evinced  for  her.  Writing 
to  her  a  short  time  before  her  marriage,  he  says :  "  Solicit- 
ous always,  and  on  all  occasions,  to  hear  from  you  or  to 
correspond  with  you,  you  find  I  do  not  omit  any  opportunity 
to  promote  that  pleasure.  Most  of  us  are  tinctured  with  a 
little  of  the  selfish — yours  is  of  that  kind  that  you  corre- 
spond chiefly  with  yourself.  Now,  I  approve  of  that  mode 
of  correspondence,  if  you  add  a  new  stock  of  information 
and  useful  knowledge  to  your  former  acquisitions.  In  thia 
case  you  have  my  permission  to  persevere.  In  such  a  case, 
and  in  all  instances,  believe  me  your  affectionate  friend  and 
father." 

Whether  at  home  or  abroad,  Dr.  Bayley  possessed  in  the 
devotedness  of  his  daughter  a  source  of  unmingled  pleasure 
and  most  grateful  relaxation.  His  humane  and  indefatiga- 
ble attentions  to  the  victims  of  disease  were  interrupted 
daring  the  day  only  to  seek  a  brief  repose  near  the  piana 


MRS.    E.   A.    3ETON.  41 

where  she  presided  with  skilful  hand;  and  when  absent  from 
home,  in  the  prosecution  of  professional  business,  he  wa» 
delighted  with  the  intercourse  which  her  letters  enabled  him 
to  enjoy.  The  following  extracts  from  their  correspondence 
will  show  the  affectionate  regard,  frankness  of  heart,  and 
playful  spirit,  which  contributed  so  much  to  the  mutual  gra- 
tification of  the  parent  and  the  child.  Suffering  from  in- 
disposition, he  thus  writes  to  her  at  the  commencement  of 
the  year : — "  I  must  smile,  although  I  cannot  swallow  but 
with  difficulty.  Confinement  is  so  unusual  a  thing  for  me, 
that  the  novelty  affords  me  the  most  solid  satisfaction.  No 
bustle — no  feeling  of  pulses — no  scolding  nor  being  scolded 
at — thus  retired  as  it  were  within  myself,  I  have  neither 
care,  thought,  or  wish — not  even  to  see  you.  Now,  let  us 
see  how  the  matter  stands.  Suppose  me  entering  your 
room,  exclaiming,  '  My  dear  daughter,  I  wish  you  a  happy 
new  year ;  Seton,  how  are  you  ?  I  wish  you  a  happy  year.' 
*  Thank  you,  sir;  I  wish  you  a  great  many.'  I  assert,  the 
foregoing  is  better  transacted  in  idea,  for  the  very  reason 
that  a  pantomime  is  a  more  rational  exhibition  for  an  active 
mind  to  contemplate  than  the  dull,  commonplace,  viva 
voce  representation  of  a  play.  Thus  I  am  situated;  re- 
moved from  the  necessity  of  acting  on  the  stage  of  the 
world,  my  mind  furnishes  me  with  all  that  is  necessary.  An 
inflammation  in  the  throat,  although  troublesome  to  a  de- 
gree, is  not  so  painful  as  a  swelling  at  the  side  of  the  face, 
with  a  tender  tooth;  but,  as  I  am  really  confined,  I  would 
take  that  too,  if  it  would  rid  your  friend  of  it.  Guard 
against  the  sudden  changes  of  weather;  never  dwell  on 
trifles;  be  mistress  of  yourself;  then  I  am  convinced  you 
will  always  have  the  credit  of  acting  well." 

When  on  a  visit  to  Albany,  in  the  year  1800,  Dr.  Bay- 
Jey  received  from  his  daughter  the  following  expressions  of 
her  regard : — "New  York,  March  4. — My  father,  a  littl* 

4» 


42  THE    LIFE    OF 

faithful  heart  has  been  conversing  with  you  this  hour  paat> 
and  I  have  engaged  to  copy  from  it  a  part  of  its  contents — 
that  it  regrets  your  absence,  is  extremely  anxious  for  your 
present  safety,  and  will  rejoice  when  you  return.  The  post 
goes  to-morrow;  therefore  there  is  no  time  to  wait  till  the 
brain  is  in  the  humor  of  invention,  and  therefore  you  must 
receive  th3  present  communication  from  that  source  which 
is  always  ready  when  you  are  the  person  in  question;  and 
it  has  also  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  conveying  to  you  the  in- 
telligence that  its  friend,  who  was  yesterday  a  sufferer,  is  well 
to-day." 

"March  12. — The  heart  of  your  Betty  jumped  for  joy 
at  sight  of  the  letter  that  was  to  tell  her  of  your  safe  ar- 
rival, that  you  were  well,  and  in  the  midst  of  friends;  and 
can  it  be  that  there  is  any  charm  in  the  visit  to  Albany  to 
compensate  for  your  absence  from  New  York?  Dear  sir, 
indeed  you  mistook:  it  was  but  a  momentary  impression, 
which,  I  am  sure,  is  before  this  time  changed  into  the  re- 
collections of  those  douceurs  without  which  every  other  gra- 
tification loses  its  charm  with  its  novelty.  That  ever  you 
should  observe  the  distance  of  the  belt  from  the  chin  *  It 
is  true  that  very  conspicuous  points  must  attract  attention : 
so  far  it  is  easy  to  imagine, — more  so  than  that  your  mind 
should  be  in  that  pliant,  happy  mood  to  admit  of  amusement 
from  transient  objects.  I  wish  it  may  long  remain  in  the 
desirable  state  your  letter  left  you  in,  like  holiday  to  the 
child  that  has  long  been  kept  in  school  and  harassed  by  the 

severity  of  its  teacher I  have  been  copying  no 

many  English  letters,  French  letters,  &c.,  that  one  ey?  ig 
open,  the  other  shut;  therefore,  dear  Mr.  Papa,  1  wish  you 
a  night  of  rest  and  myself  the  same  Your  most  deaf 
daughter,  E.  A.  SETON." 

*  An  allusion  to  some  remark  of  her  father. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  43 

The  amiable  qualities  here  depicted  could  not  fail  60  se- 
cure 4  corresponding  feeling  in  a  parent  of  so  generous  a 
mature  as  Dr.  Bayley.  But,  enhanced  as  they  were  by  the 
noblest  sentiments  of  virtue,  they  rendered  his  daughter  au 
object  of  unbounded  admiration  in  his  eyes.  Writing  to 
him  on  one  occasion,  after  indulging  her  usual  vein  of  hi- 
larity, she  concludes  her  letter  in  the  following  beautiful 
•train  : — "  I  have  been  reading  of  the  High  and  Holy  One 
who  inhabits  eternity,  and  selecting  such  passages  as  I  wish 
to  transmit  to  my  daughter.  How  the  world  lessens  and  re- 
cedes !  How  calm  and  peaceable  are  hours  spent  in  such 
solitude !  They  are  marked  down  for  useful  purposes,  and 
their  memory  remains.  I  close  my  evening  employment 
with  'orisons  for  thee.'  Peace  be  with  my  father."  To  this 
elevation  of  soul  and  practical  wisdom  Mrs.  Seton  joined  a 
degree  of  respectful  submission  to  the  wishes  of  her  father, 
which  was  not  less  attractive  in  the  eyes  of  a  parent. 
Though  circumstances  would  sometimes  place  him  at  a  dis- 
tance from  her,  she  regarded  him  as  present,  and  observed 
his  counsels  with  the  same  exactitude  as  if  he  were  a  wit- 
ness of  her  conduct.  "  Your  spirit,"  she  tells  him,  "  sur- 
rounds your  child,  who  checks  each  word  you  would  prevent 
and  pursues  every  action  that  you  would  approve."  It  is 
easy  to  conceive  how  truly  such  virtue  was  appreciated  by 
Dr.  Bayley,  and  how  refreshing  must  have  been  its  effects 
amid  the  laborious  duties  in  which  he  was  so  actively  en- 
gaged. In  the  discharge  of  his  office  as  health  physician 
to  the  port  of  New  York,  he  passed  much  of  his  time  at 
Staten  Island,  where  vessels  were  detained  at  quarantine. 
Here  the  scenes  of  distress  and  suffering  which  occurred 
among  the  emigrants,  who  frequently  arrived  in  consider- 
able numbers,  and  which  almost  defy  description,  called  into 
constant  action  the  energetic  benevolence  of  Dr.  Bayley. 
While  the  yellow  fpver  was  raging  on  board  of  the  infected 


44  THE    LIFE    OS 

vessels,  hurrying  to  the  grave  hundreds  of  unfortunate 
beings  who  had  scarcely  seen  the  light  of  day  since  they  had 
embarked  from  home,  and  little  infants  were  dying  by  scores 
as  soon  as  admitted  into  the  fresh  air,  or  famishing  at  the 
mother's  breast,  unable  to  receive  other  nourishment  or  to 
find  it,  Dr.  Bayley  was  everywhere  seen  among  the  sick 
and  the  dying — sometimes  carrying  the  almost  lifelesfl 
babes  in  his  own  arms,  to  place  them  in  comfortable  beds. 
To  the  countless  numbers  that  came  from  foreign  countries, 
and  were  suffering  from  the  pestilence,  he  was  a  real  father. 
In  offices  of  humanity  he  never  wearied,  and  every  rising 
gun  found  him  already  two  or  three  hours  engaged  in  the 
work  of  charity.  Although  Mrs.  Seton  could  not  partici- 
pate in  the  active  philanthropy  of  her  father,  she  did  not 
lack  the  disposition  to  do  all  that  she  possibly  could  to  as- 
suage the  sufferings  of  her  fellow-beings.  The  language  in 
which  she  alludes  to  their  pitiable  condition  exhibits  a  heart 
filled  with  the  most  tender  commiseration.  Writing  to  her 
sister-in-law  on  this  subject,  she  says: — "Rebecca,  I  cannot 
sleep;  the  dying  and  the  dead  possess  my  mind — babies 
perishing  at  the  empty  breast  of  the  expiring  mother.  And 
this  is  not  fancy,  but  the  scene  that  surrounds  me.  Father 
Bays  such  was  never  known  before;  that  there  are  actually 
twelve  children  that  must  die  for  mere  want  of  sustenance, 
unable  to  take  more  than  the  breast,  and,  from  the  wretched- 
ness of  their  parents,  deprived  of  it,  as  they  have  lain  ill  for 
many  days  in  the  ship,  without  food,  air,  or  changing.  Mer- 
ciful Father  1  oh,  how  readily  would  I  give  them  each  a  turn 
of  my  child's  treasure,  if  in  my  choice !  But,  Rebecca,  they 
have  a  provider  in  heaven  who  will  soothe  the  pangs  of  the 
Buffering  innocent."  Such  was  the  heartfelt  sympathy  with 
which  she  contemplated  the  misery  of  those  around  her,  that 
•he  was  tempted  to  wean  her  own  child,  in  order  to  become 
a  mother  to  the  little  ones  whom  sickness  had  deprived  of 


MRS.   E.   A.   8ETON  4b 

all  parental  assistance.  But  this  her  father  would  not  per- 
mit, as  her  first  duty  regarded  those  who  were  more  imme- 
diately under  her  charge.  Her  obligations  in  this  respect 
allowed  her  comparative  leisure  in  her  retirement  at  Statcn 
Island;  and  she  did  not  fail  to  employ  to  the  best  advantage 
the  moments  which  were  left  from  her  domestic  avocations. 
One  hour  of  the  day  was  devoted  to  the  gratification  of  her 
father,  who  found  no  more  effectual  relaxation  from  his  ar- 
duous and  perilous  office  than  to  listen  to  the  sweet  music 
of  the  piano  j  but  to  prayer  and  the  reading  of  the  holy 
Scriptures  she  appropriated  much  more  time,  and  she  expe- 
.rienced  the  purest  joy  in  these  exercises  of  Christian  piety.* 
The  following  effusion,  written  at  a  season  when  the  ravages 
of  death  were  actively  going  on  around  her,  will  show  the 
peace  of  mind  which,  under  these  circumstances,  she  derived 
from  religious  meditation,  and  her  grateful  sense  for  the 
favors  vouchsafed  to  her  and  her  family : — "  *  Consider  the 
blessings  that  are  at  His  right  hand  for  them  that  love  him.' 
I  was  awoke  from  my  sleep  this  morning  with  these  sweet 
words  still  sounding  in  my  ears — a  bright  sun  and  every 
blessing  surrounding  me.  Often  does  the  perishing  body 
enjoy  this  happiness,  while  the  soul  is  still  imprisoned  in 
the  shades  of  darkness.  This  day  it  flies  to  Him,  the  mer- 
ciful giver  of  these  unspeakable  blessings,  without  a  fear  or 
one  drawback  but  the  dread  of  that  frailty  returning  which 
has  so  often  sunk  it  in  the  depths  of  sorrow.  Merciful  Fa- 
ther, graciously  save  it  from  the  worst  of  all  misery, — that  of 
offending  its  adored  benefactor  and  friend.  Praise  the  Lord, 

*  As  an  evidence  of  Mrs.  Seton's  admiration  of  piety,  we  will  men- 
tion here  that  she  was  struck  with  the  religious  demeanor  of  the  Irish 
•migrants  who  landed  on  Staten  Island  for  the  purpose  of  receiving 
medical  aid.  "  The  first  thing  these  poor  people  did  when  they  got  their 
tents  was  to  assemble  on  the  grass,  and  all,  kneeling,  adored  our  Maker 
for  the  mercy ;  and  every  morning  tun  finds  them  repeating  their  pruiiM.* 


46  THE     LIFE     OF 

oh  my  soul !  Praise  Mm,  that  the  blessed  impulse  of  gnu* 
may  redound  to  thy  own  happiness  and  glory,  for  to  him 
thy  praise  can  add  nothing;  to  thyself  it  is  now  the  means 
of  grace  and  comfort,  and  hereafter  will  be  thy  pleasure  and 
joy  through  eternity." 

But  the  period  had  arrived  when  Mrs.  Seton  was  to  ex- 
perience one  of  the  severest  trials  that  could  fall  to  her  lot. 
Dr.  Bayley,  her  father,  was  about  to  end  a  life  of  active  use- 
fulness, on  the  very  spot  and  in  the  very  cause  where  hia 
jaoors  had  been  so  extensively  beneficial  to  the  medical  pro- 
fession and  to  humanity.  In  the  discharge  of  his  duty  as 
health  physician,  in  August,  1801,  he  directed  the  passen- 
gers and  crew  of  an  Irish  emigrant  vessel  with  ship  fever  to 
go  on  shore  to  the  rooms  and  tents  appointed  for  them,  leav- 
ing their  baggage  behind.  This  was  in  the  evening.  Early 
the  following  morning,  upon  going  to  the  hospital,  he  found 
that  his  orders  had  been  disobeyed,  and  crew  and  passen- 
gers, men,  women,  and  children,  well,  sick,  and  dying,  with 
all  their  baggage,  were  huddled  together  in  one  apartment, 
where  they  had  passed  the  night.  Into  this  apartment,  be- 
fore it  had  been  ventilated,  he  imprudently  entered,  and  re- 
mained but  a  moment,  being  compelled  to  retire  by  the  most 
deadly  sickness  at  the  stomach  and  intense  pain  in  the  head, 
which  seized  him  immediately  upon  entering  the  room.* 
Returning  home,  he  retired  to  his  bed,  from  which  he  never 
rose.  The  anguish  of  his  affectionate  and  devoted  daughter, 
at  this  crisis,  may  be  better  imagined  than  described.  All 
that  the  tenderest  solicitude  could  suggest  was  done  by  her 
to  relieve  his  sufferings.  She  watched  continually  at  his 
side,  and  poured  forth  her  fervent  prayers  to  God  for  his 
welfare.  In  fact,  the  mercy  of  God  wi.s  her  only  resource 
io  these  moments  of  deep  affliction,  an.d  she  invoked  it  in- 


*  Thacher.  ibid. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETOJT.  47 

cessantly  in  behalf  of  her  beloved  parent.  She  thus  ex- 
presses her  sentiments  on  this  occasion  in  a  letter  to  a  sister- 
in-law.  "  My  own  Rebecca's  heart  aches  for  me — but  all  in 
vain.  The  chance  is  so  small,  that  hope  is  folly,  except  aa 
we  refer  it  to  Him  who  can  renew  both  body  and  soul  in  ao 
instant.  He  cannot  retain  any  nourishment  or  get  rest  for 
any  length  of  time;  knows  his  dear  Betty,  so  as  to  expresa 
by  his  looks  his  pleasure  at  seeing  her,  and  sometimes  puts 
out  his  hand.  Your  poor  sister's  only  refuge  is  the  Father 
that  cannot  be  removed.  Oh  !  how  sweet  is  such  refuge  iu 
this  hour  I"  Such  was  Mrs.  Seton's  trust  in  God,  not  only 
for  the  bodily  relief  of  her  father,  but  principally  for  the 
welfare  of  his  soul.  She  knew  that  his  religious  ideas  were 
too  conformable  to  the  principles  of  the  then  prevalent  phi- 
losophy, and  she  feared,  notwithstanding  his  great  moral  vir- 
tues, lest  his  salvation  might  be  in  danger.  In  the  ardor 
of  her  love,  and  with  full  confidence  in  the  infinite  goodness 
of  God,  she  endeavored  to  think  of  some  sacrifice  which 
could  be  offered  to  the  Almighty  as  a  pledge  for  the  eternal 
happiness  of  her  father's  soul.  At  length  she  adopted  the 
following  expedient.  Leaving  her  dying  parent  for  a  few 
moments,  she  went  to  the  cradle  where  her  infant  child  was 
sleeping,  clasped  it  in  her  arms,  and,  going  out  on  the  piazza 
of  the  building,  she  there  raised  the  little  innocent  babe  to- 
ward heaven,  and  appealed  to  the  divine  compassion,  say- 
ing. "  0  Jesus,  my  merciful  Father  and  God !  take  this 
little  innocent  offering;  I  give  it  to  thee  with  all  my  heart; 
take  it,  my  Lord,  but  save  my  father's  soul."  It  pleased 
divine  Providence,  however,  not  to  deprive  her  of  the  child 
which  she  bore  in  her  arms.  It  was  reserved,  with  her 
other  children,  to  be  reared  in  the  knowledge  of  the  true 
faith,  after  she  herself  had  been  introduced  into  the  one  fold 
under  one  shepherd.  On  the  seventh  day  of  his  sickness, 
about  the  16th  of  August.  Dr.  Bavley  expired,  leaving  be- 


48  THE     LIFE     OF 

hind  him  a  high  character  as  a  clinically-instructed  phys* 
cian,  "  an  excellent  and  bold  operator,  a  prompt  practitioner 
of  rapid  diagnosis  and  unhesitating  decision.  In  demeanor 
a  perfect  gentleman,  honest  and  chivalrously  honorable;  of 
perfect  integrity,  and  little  tolerant  of  obliquity  in  others; 
ever  ready  to  serve  the  cause  of  his  profession ;  inflexible  in 
his  attachments,  invincible  in  his  dislikes,  and  unbrooking 
of  insult ;  in  temper  fiery,  yet  suddenly  cool — a  fault  which 
he  knew  and  regretted;  thoroughly  fearless;  somewhat  too 
strongly  partial  to  certain  patients,  but  withal  charitable  to 
a  fault."  *(5)  He  was  one  of  those  characters  that  make 
warm  friends  and  bitter  enemies.  His  servants  and  depend- 
ants were  much  attached  to  him,  and  for  several  years  after 
his  death  they  were  known  to  shed  tears  at  the  mention  of 
his  name. 

With  the  ardent  temperament  of  Mrs.  Seton  and  her  fond 
devotedness  to  her  father,  the  bereavement  which  she  suf- 
fered by  his  death  would  have  produced  the  most  disastrous 
results  for  her  happiness,  had  she  not  been  strengthened 
against  all  the  vicissitudes  of  life  by  the  steady  cultivation 
of  a  spirit  of  submission  to  the  decrees  of  Providence.  This 
disposition  enabled  her  to  moderate  her  grief;  and  although 
she  ever  recalled  the  memory  of  Dr.  Bayley  with  the  pro- 
foundest  sentiments  of  love  and  veneration,  she  did  not  for- 
get that  the  Almighty  had  reserved  for  her,  in  the  family 
around  her,  an  ample  field  for  the  immediate  exercise  of  her 
affectionate  solicitude.  It  was  her  only  remaining  wish, 
after  the  interment  of  her  distinguished  parent,  that  she 
might  be  permitted  after  death  to  repose  by  his  side.  But 
this  prayer  was  not  granted :  it  was  ordained  in  the  counsels 
of  Heaven  that  she  herself  should  become  a  nucleus  around 
which  would  be  gathered  the  precious  remains  of  her  chil« 

•  Thacher,  lot.  cit. 


MRS.    K.    A.    SETON.  W 

dren  and  her  spiritual  daughters,  who  will  not  be  separated 
from  her  in  death  after  having  been  united  in  the  bonds  of 
charity  during  life. 

After  the  demise  of  her  father,  Mrs.  Seton  seemed  to 
grow  more  fervent  in  the  practice  of  her  religion.  The  ex- 
tracts already  furnished  from  her  papers,  some  of  whici 
were  posterior  in  date  to  the  event  just  mentioned,  clearly 
show  that  as  she  advanced  in  years  the  practice  of  piety 
engaged  her  deep  and  constant  attention.  We  will  here 
furnish  one  or  two  additional  passages  from  her  writings  at 
this  period,  with  a  view  to  indicate  the  sentiments  which 
animated  her  previously  to  the  increased  affliction  which  an 
all-wise  Providence  was  preparing  for  her.  On  Sunday,  the 
23d  of  May,  1802,  on  which  most  probably  she  had  com- 
muned, she  thus  expresses  herself : — "  This  blessed  day,  my 
BOU!  was  first  sensibly  convinced  of  the  blessing  and  practi- 
cability of  an  entire  surrender  of  itself  and  all  its  faculties 
to  God.  It  has  been  the  Lord's  day  indeed  to  me — though 
many,  many  temptations  to  forget  my  heavenly  possession, 
in  his  constant  presence,  have  pressed  upon  me.  But,  blessed 
be  my  gracious  Shepherd,  in  this  last  hour  of  his  day  I  am 
at  rest  within  his  fold,  sweetly  refreshed  with  the  waters  of 
comfort  which  have  flowed  through  the  soul  of  his  minister- 
ing servant."  In  the  month  of  August,  the  same  year,  she 
formed  the  following  resolutions,  which  evince  a  serious  at 
tention  to  the  practice  of  the  Christian  maxims.  "  Solemnly 
in  the  presence  of  my  Judge,  I  resolve,  through  his  grace, 
to  remember  my  infirmity  and  my  sin;  to  keep  the  door  of 
my  lips;  to  consider  the  cause  of  sorrow  for  sin  in  myself 
afld  them  whose  souls  are  as  dear  to  me  as  iny  own ;  to  check 
and  restrain  all  useless  words;  to  deny  myself  and  exercise 
that  severity  that  I  know  is  due  to  iny  sin;  to  judge  myself 
thereby,  trusting  through  mercy  that  I  shall  not  be  severely 
jadged  by  my  Lord."  The  following  year,  on  the  9th  of 


50  THE    LIFE    OF 

March,  she  penned  a  beautiful  act  of  thanksgiving  to  God, 
in  which  she  alludes  to  the  happy  exchange  of  this  life's 
shadows  and  pains  for  the  glory  and  felicity  of  the  next. 
"  Oh  let  our  souls  praise  thee,  and  our  all  be  devoted  to  thy 
service;  then  at  the  last  we  shall  praise  thee,  day  without 
night,  rejoicing  in  thy  eternal  courts — by  the  light  of  thj 
celestial  glories  all  our  darkness,  pains,  and  sorrows,  will  be 
forever  dispersed — those  clouds  and  griefs  which  now  op- 
press and  weigh  down  the  souls  of  thy  poor,  erring  creatures 
will  be  gone  and  remembered  no  more.  Those  thorns  which 
now  obstruct  our  path — those  shades  which  now  obscure  the 
light  of  thy  heavenly  truth — all,  all  shall  be  done  away,  and 
give  place  to  thy  cheering  presence,  to  the  eternal,  unchang- 
ing joys  which  thou  hast  in  store  for  the  souls  of  thy  faith- 
ful servants."  Thus  did  the  good  providence  of  God  permit 
her  to  cherish  the  most  fervent  sentiments  of  religion,  even 
in  communion  with  the  sect  in  which  she  had  been  educated, 
that  her  mind  might  be  fortified  against  the  influence  of  ap- 
proaching tribulation,  and  particularly  that  her  subsequent 
abjuration  of  error  might  be  invested  with  a  greater  eclat, 
and  exhibit  more  strikingly  the  riches  of  that  mercy  which 
calls  the  wandering  sheep  into  the  pastures  of  truth  and 
eternal  life.  In  the  following  book  it  will  be  seen  how  the 
Almighty  prepared  the  way  for  this  signal  exercise  of  hij 
Infinite  goodness. 


MRS.    Z.    A.    SETON. 


BOOK  IL 

Mr.  Seton's  ill-health — Voyage  to  Italy,  accompanied  by  hia  wife  and 
eldest  daughter — Mrs.  Seton's  sentiments — Her  journal — Incidents  on 
•nriTvag  at  Leghorn  —  Description  of  the  Lazaretto  —  Mrs.  Seton 'a 
resignation  and  fortitude — The  Capiia.no — Mr.  Seton  grows  weaker — 
Quarantine  precautions — Mrs.  Seton's  confidence  in  God — Comfort  to 
her  husband — His  sufferings — The  Capitano's  religion — Sentiments  of 
Mr.  Seton — Visitors  at  the  Lazaretto — Incident  of  Mrs.  Seton's  youth 
— Reflections — Communion  with  home — Attentions  to  her  husband — 
Devotions — Journey  to  Pisa — Devotedness  of  Mrs.  Seton — Her  hus- 
band's dispositions — His  death — Energy  and  fortitude  of  his  wife — 
What  strangers  thought  of  her — Attentions  and  sympathy  from 
friends — Visit  to  Florence — Impressions. 

EARLY  in  the  spring  of  1803,  Mr.  Seton's  health,  which 
had  always  been  extremely  delicate,  seemed  to  be  rapidly 
declining,  and  he  was  advised  by  his  physicians  to  try  the 
experiment  of  a  sea-voyage  for  the  purpose  of  reviving  his 
sinking  frame.  A  commercial  intercourse  had  made  him 
long  and  favorably  known  to  the  Messrs.  Filicchi,  distin- 
guished merchants  at  Leghorn,  which  determined  him  to 
visit  the  genial  clime  of  that  country,  and  to  renew  an  ac- 
quaintance which  he  had  formed  with  it  in  his  earlier  years. 
With  a  view  to  afford  her  suffering  husband  every  attention 
that  his  situation  required,  Mrs.  Seton  resolved  to  accom- 
pany him,  and  immediately  set  about  the  necessary  prepara- 
tions for  the  voyage,  confiding  to  her  relatives  the  care  of 
her  younger  children,  and  selecting  her  eldest  daughter, 
Anna  Maria,  then  in  her  ninth  year,  as  a  companion  during 
her  travels.  The  severe  trial  which  carried  Mrs.  Seton  from 
home,  and  the  fearful  uncertainty  which  yet  hung  over  the 
issue  of  the  journey,  were  well  calculated  to  plunge  her  into 
the  deepest  sorrow;  but  her  confidence  in  God  and  resigna- 


52  THE    LIFE    DP 

fcion  to  his  divine  will  sustained  her  courage  and  composed 
her  mind  for  every  affair  that  demanded  attention.  We 
may  form  some  idea  of  her  sentiments  at  this  period  from 
the  following  lines  written  to  one  of  her  nearest  friends : — 
"My  dear,  dear  Eliza,  your  tenderness  and  affection  calls 
me  hack;  for  often,  often,  with  all  I  have  to  do,  I  forget  I 
urn  here.  The  cloud  that  would  overpower  can  only  be 
borne  by  striving  to  get  above  it.  Seton  has  had  new  and 
severe  suffering  since  I  saw  you;  all  say  it  is  presumption, 
and  next  to  madness,  to  undertake  our  voyage;  but  you 
know  we  reason  differently.  Saturday  is  now  the  day; 
every  thing  is  ready  and  on  board.  We  will,  dear  Eliza, 
rest  upon  Him,  our  only  strength,  and  my  soul  is  thankful, 
for  surely,  with  all  the  many  calls  we  have  to  resign  our 
hopes  in  this  life,  we  naturally  without  one  lingering  pain 
must  seek  our  rest  above.  Can  it  be  that  we  will  be  there 
to  separate  no  more?  With  the  strong  and  ardent  faith 
with  which  I  receive  and  dwell  on  this  promise,  all  is  well 
and  resting  on  the  mercy  of  God.  May  he  bless  you  as  my 
soul  blesses  you,  and  raise  you  above  the  sorrows  and  pains 
with  which  your  soul  has  so  long  struggled !  Dear,  dear 
Eliza,  my  heart  trembles  within  me,  and  I  can  only  say, 
take  my  darlings  often  in  your  arms,  and  do  not  let  the  re- 
membrance of  any  thing  I  have  ever  done  that  has  vexed 
you  come  twice  to  your  thoughts.  I  know  it  will  not;  but 
it  seems  now  to  me  like  my  last  hour  with  all  that  I  love." 
To  a  youthful  and  beloved  relative,  in  whose  welfare  she 
took  a  particular  interest,  Mrs.  Seton  addressed  the  follow- 
ing parting  advice : — "Although  I  leave  you  in  the  hands  of 
your  dearest  friends,  and  under  the  protecting  care  of  our 
dear  and  Heavenly  Father,  still  my  heart  would  dictate  to 
you  many  anxious  requests  respecting  your  habitual  ob- 
servance of  that  heavenly  Christian  life  you  have  so  early 
begun;  and  in  order  to  persevere  in  this,  your  first  atten- 


MRS.    X.   A.    SETON.  68 

tion  must  be  to  make  to  yourself  a  few  particular  rules, 
which  you  must  not  suffer  any  thing  on  earth  to  divert  you 
from,  as  they  relate  immediately  to  your  sacred  duty  to  your 
God;  and,  if  you  find  that  there  are  any  obstacles  in  your 
way — and  doubtless  you  will  find  many,  as  every  Christian 
does  in  the  fulfilment  of  their  duty, — still  persevere  with 
yet  more  earnestness,  and  rejoice  to  bear  your  share  in  the 
cross,  which  is  our  passport  and  seal  to  the  kingdom  of  our 
Redeemer.  Nor  will  your  steadiness  of  conduct  ever  injure 
you  even  in  the  minds  of  those  who  act  differently  from 
you,  for  all  who  lore  you  will  respect  and  esteem  you  the 
more  for  persevering  in  what  you  know  to  be  your  duty. 
And  may  the  Divine  Spirit  strengthen  your  soul  in  his  ser- 
vice, and  make  your  way  plain  before  you,  that  whatever 
are  the  changes  in  this  our  mortal  life,  we  may  find  our  rest 
in  that  blessed  fold,  where  dear  friends  will  no  more  be 
separated,  but  perfect  the  virtues  and  affections  which  have 
united  them  here,  by  the  crown  of  immortal  life  and  glory." 
The  day  after  writing  this  note,  October  2d,  the  voyagers 
had  reached  the  quarantine  port  of  New  York  on  their  way 
to  Italy.  Mr.  Seton  already  experienced  the  salutary  effects 
of  a  change  of  air,  and  as  to  his  wife,  she  thus  expressed 
her  feelings  on  leaving  home : — "  My  heart  is  lifted,  feels  its 
treasure,  and  the  little  cabin  and  my  cross  are  objects  of 
peace  and  sweet  comfort.  He  is  with  me,  and  what  can  I 
fear?"  Although  the  parting  from  home  drew  tears  from 
her  eyes,  she  was  resigned  to  the  circumstances  that  com- 
pelled it.  On  the  following  day,  the  vessel  having  nearod 
the  light-house,  Mr.  Seton's  symptoms  continued  to  be 
favorable.  From  this  position,  Mrs.  Seton  addressed  a  note 
to  her  sister-in-law,  Rebecca,  in  which  she  says : — "  I  feel  so 
satisfied  in  my  hidden  treasure,  that  you  might  think  me  an 
old  rock.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  O'Brien  (the  captain  and  hiswift) 
are  really  kind  friends  to  us.  The  steward  seems  as  anxious 


54  THE    LIFE     JF 

to  please  me  as  even  our  Mary*  could  be,  and  a  dear  little 
child,  about  eighteen  months  old,  makes  me  sigh  for  Tatte*  ;f 
but,  as  I  told  my  Bayley,  I  neither  look  behind  nor  before 
— only  up, — there  is  my  rest,  and  I  want  nothing.  They 
threaten  a  storm,  but  I  fear  not  with  Him."  With  this 
calm  temper  of  mind,  which  Mrs.  Seton  uniformly  preserved, 
a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  could  not  fail  to  be  a  source  of 
abundant  enjoyment,  whether  resulting  from  the  contem- 
plation of  the  natural  wonders  which  it  presented,  or  from 
the  spiritual  associations  which  it  so  readily  suggests  to  a 
religious  soul.  About  midway  between  America  and  Italy 
she  thus  wrote  to  a  friend  at  home : — "We  are  now  past  the 
Western  Isles,  which  are  exactly  half-way  between  New 
York  and  Leghorn,  and  hourly  expect  to  meet  some  vessel 
that  may  take  our  letters  home — as  I  am  sure  my  very  dear 
friend  will  be  among  the  first  inquirers  of  news  from  us.  I 
write,  though  sure  there  can  be  little  to  interest  you  after 
saying  that  Mr.  Seton  is  daily  getting  better  and  that  little 
Ann  and  myself  are  well.  If  I  dared  indulge  my  enthu- 
siasm, and  describe,  as  far  as  I  could  give  them  words,  my  ex 
travagant  enjoyments  in  gazing  on  the  ocean,  and  the  rising 
and  setting  sun,  and  the  moonlight  evenings,  a  quire  of 
paper  would  not  contain  what  I  should  tell  you;  but  one 
subject  you  will  share  with  me,  which  engages  my  whole 
soul, — the  dear,  the  tender,  the  gracious  love  with  which 
every  moment  has  been  marked  in  these  my  heavy  hours 
of  trial.  You  will  believe,  because  you  know,  how  blessed 
they  are  who  rest  on  our  Heavenly  Father.  Not  one  strug- 
gle nor  desponding  thought  to  contend  with — confiding 
hope  and  consoling  peace  has  attended  my  way  through 
storms  and  dangers  that  must  have  terrified  a  soul  whow 
rock  is  not  Christ." 

•  A  servant,  probably,  at  home.       f  Her  youngest  child,  an  infant 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETON.  5*» 

During  the  voyage  nothing  of  particular  interest  trap 
spired  except  the  sickness  of  Mrs.  Seton's  daughter,  who 
caught  the  whooping-cough  from  the  captain's  child,  whic^ 
was  laboring  under  the  same  complaint.  Mr.  Seton's  healtk 
was  apparently  improving,  though  he  was  much  annoyed  by 
the  coughing  and  crying  of  the  children  around  him.  Hi* 
wife  divided  her  time  between  her  devotions  and  the  atten- 
tions which  she  bestowed  upon  him  and  her  suffering  child. 
Her  sentiments  and  resolutions  are  thus  recorded  by  her- 
self, on  the  llth  of  November: — "  My  dear  little  Anna  shed 
many  tears  on  her  prayer-book,  over  the  92d  psalui,  in  con- 
sequence of  my  telling  her  that  we  offended  God  every  day. 
Our  conversation  began  by  her  asking  me  if  God  put  down 
our  bad  actions  in  his  book  as  well  as  our  good  ones.  She 
said  she  wondered  how  any  one  could  be  sorry  to  see  a  dear 
infant  die;  she  thought  there  was  more  cause  to  cry  when 
they  were  born.  Considering  the  infirmity  and  corrupt 
nature  which  would  overpower  the  spirit  of  grace,  and  the 
enormity  of  the  offence  to  which  the  least  indulgence  of 
them  would  lead  me — in  the  anguish  of  my  soul,  shudder- 
ing to  offend  my  adored  Lord,  I  have  this  day  solemnly  en- 
gaged that,  through  the  strength  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  I  will 
not  again  expose  that  corrupt  and  infirm  nature  to  the  small- 
est temptation  I  can  avoid;  and,  therefore,  if  my  Heavenly 
Father  will  once  more  reunite  us  all,  that  I  will  make  a 
daily  sacrifice  of  every  wish,  even  the  most  innocent,  les£ 
they  should  betray  me  to  deviation  from  the  solemn  and 
sacred  vow  I  have  now  made.  0  my  God !  imprint  it  on 
my  soul  with  the  strength  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that,  by  his 
grace  supported  and  defended,  I  may  never  more  forget  that 
thou  art  my  all,  and  that  I  cannot  be  received  in  thy 
heavenly  kingdom  without  a  pure  and  faithful  heart,  su- 
premely devoted  to  thy  holy  will.  Oh,  k?ep  me  for  the  sake 
of  Tesus  Christ  1" 


56  THE    LITE    0V 

She  thus  notes  the  incidents  of  November  16: — "A 
heavy  storm  of  thunder  and  lightning  at  midnight.  My 
soul,  assured  and  strong  in  its  Almighty  Protector,  encou- 
raged itself  in  him,  while  the  knees  trembled  as  they  bent  to 
him — the  worm  of  the  dust  shaking  at  the  terrors  of  ita  Al- 
mighty Judge — a  helpless  child  clinging  to  the  mercy  of  ita 
tender  Father — a  redeemed  soul  strong  in  the  strength  of 
ita  adored  Saviour!  After  reading  a  great  deal,  and  long 
and  earnest  prayer,  went  to  bed,  but  could  not  rest.  A  little 
voice,  (my  own  Anna,  who  I  thought  was  asleep,)  in  a  soft 
whisper  said,  (  Come  hither,  all  ye  weary  souls.'  I  changed 
my  place  to  her  arms;  the  rocking  of  the  vessel  and  the' 
breaking  of  the  waves  were  forgot;  the  heavy  sighs  and 
restless  pains  were  lost  in  a  sweet  refreshing  sleep.  Adored 
Redeemer !  it  was  thy  word,  by  the  voice  of  one  of  thy  little 
ones,  who  promises  indeed  to  be  one  of  thy  angels."  On  the 
18th  of  the  same  month,  while  the  Ave  Maria  bells  were 
ringing,  the  vessel  arrived  in  the  mole  of  Leghorn.  The 
events  which  followed  between  this  period  and  that  of  her 
husband's  death  were  all  recorded  by  Mrs.  Seton  in  a  jour- 
nal, which,  although  not  possessing  the  strict  connection  and 
phraseology  of  a  narrative,  will  perhaps  be  found  more  in- 
teresting by  the  reader  than  if  presented  in  another  form, 
as  it  is  a  lifelike  picture  of  the  author's  character,  drawn  by 
herself,  at  moments  when  she  poured  forth  her  sentiments 
and  emotions  to  a  bosom  friend  with  the  utmost  simplicity 
of  manner,  and  with  all  the  ardor  which  an  entire  freedom 
from  restraint  would  permit.  This  journal  was  written  at 
che  lazaretto  of  Leghorn,  where  Mr.  Seton,  with  his  wife 
and  child,  was  detained  during  four  weeks  on  account  of 
his  sickness,  and  his  having  come  from  New  York,  where 
the  yellow  fever  had  made  its  appearance. 

"  19/A  Nov.,  1803 — 10  o'clock  at  night. — How  eagerly 
would  you  listen  to  the  voice  that  should  offer  to  tell  you 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  57 

where  your  dear  sister  is  now — your  soul's  sister.  Yet  you 
could  not  rest  in  your  bed  if  you  saw  her  as  she  is.  sitting 
in  one  corner  of  an  immense  prison,  bolted  in — a  sing.e  win- 
dow, double-grated  with  iron,  through  which,  if  I  should 
want  any  thing,  I  am  to  call  a  sentinel  with  a  cocked  hat 
and  long  rifled  gun — that  is,  that  he  may  not  receive  the 
dreadful  infection  we  are  supposed  to  have  brought  with  us 
from  New  York. 

"  To  commence  from  where  I  left  off  last  night :  I  went 
to  sleep  and  dreamed  I  was  in  the  middle  aisle  of  Trinity 
Church,  singing  with  all  my  soul  the  hymn  at  our  dear  sa- 
crament. So  much  comfort  made  me  more  than  satisfied,  and 
when  I  heard  in  the  morning  a  boat  was  alongside  of  our 
ship,  I  flew  on  deck  and  would  have  thrown  myself  in  the 
arms  of  dear  Carlton  ;*  but  he  retired  from  me,  and  a  guard, 
whom  I  saw  for  the  first  time,  said,  '  Don't  touch.'  It  was 
now  explained  that  our  ship  was  the  first  to  bring  the  news 
of  the  yellow  fever  in  New  York,  which  our  want  of  a  bill 
of  health  discovered;  our  ship  must  go  out  in  the  roads,  and 
my  poor  William,  being  sick,  must  go  with  his  baggage  to 
the  lazaretto.  At  this  moment  the  band  of  music  that  al- 
ways welcomes  strangers  came  under  our  cabin  window, 
playing  '  Hail  Columbia/  and  those  little  tunes  that  set  the 
darlings  singing  and  dancing  at  home.  Mrs.  O'Brien  and 
the  rest  were  almost  wild  with  joy,  while  I  was  glad  to  hide 
in  my  berth  the  full  heart  of  sorrow,  which  seemed  as  if  it 
must  break.  You  cannot  have  an  idea  of  the  looks  of  my 
poor  William,  who  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  live  over  the 
day.  Presently  appeared  a  boat  with  fourteen  oars,  and  we 
entered  into  another  fastened  to  it.  The  lazaretto  being 
iome  miles  from  town,  we  were  rowed  out  to  sea  again,  and, 
after  an  hour's  ride  over  the  waves,  the  chains  which  cross 

•  Dr.  Guy  Carlton  Bayley,  of  New  York,  her  step-brother,  at  that  time 
In  the  counting-house  of  the  Messrs.  Filicchi. 


68  THE    LIFE    OF 

the  entrance  of  the  canal  which  leads  to  this  place  were  let 
down  at  the  signal  of  several  successive  bells,  and,  after  an- 
other rowing  between  walls  as  high  as  our  second-story  win- 
dows, and  the  quarrelling  and  hallooing  of  the  wateiuien 
where  we  should  be  lauded,  the  boat  stopped.  Another  suc- 
cession of  bells  brought  down  one  guard  after  another,  and 
in  about  half  an  hour  Monsieur  le  Capitano,  who,  after  niucl 
consultation  and  whispering  with  his  lieutenant,  said  we 
might  come  out,  upon  which  every  one  retreated,  and  a 
guard  pointed  with  his  bayonet  the  way  which  we  were  to 
go.  An  order  from  the  commandant  was  sent  from  our  boat 
to  the  Capitano,  which  was  received  on  the  end  of  a  stick, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  light  a  fire  to  smoke  it  before  it 
could  be  read.  My  books  always  go  with  me,  and  they  were 
carefully  put  up,  but  must  all  be  looked  over  and  the  pages 
and  the  little  secretary  examined.  The  person  who  did  this, 
and  examined  our  mattresses,  must  perform  as  long  a  quaran- 
tine as  ourselves.  Poor  little  Anna !  how  she  trembled !  and 
William  tottered  along  as  if  every  moment  be  must  fall, 
which,  had  he  done,  no  one  for  their  lives  dared  to  touch 
him.  We  were  directed  to  go  opposite  to  the  window  of 
the  Capitano's  house,  in  which  sat  Mrs.  Philip  Filicchi — 
compliments  and  kind  looks  without  number;  a  fence  waa 
between  us,  but,  I  fear,  did  not  hide  my  fatigue  both  of  soul 
and  body :  first  we  had  chairs  handed,  or  rather  placed  for 
us,  for,  after  we  had  touched  them,  they  could  not  go  back 
to  the  house.  At  length  we  were  shown  the  door  we  were 
to  enter — No.  6,  up  twenty  stone  steps — a  room  with  high 
arched  ceilings,  like  St.  Paul's,  brick  floor,  and  naked  walls. 
The  Capitano  sent  three  warm  eggs,  a  bottle  of  wine,  and 
some  slices  of  bread.  William's  mattress  was  soon  spread, 
and  he  upon  it;  he  could  not  touch  wine  or  eg^.  Our 
little  syrups,  currant  jelly,  drinks,  &c.,  which  he  must  have 
every  hali  hour  on  board  ship — where  were  they?  I  had 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETO.V.  59 

heard  the  lazaretto  was  the  very  place  for  comfort  for  the 
sick,  and  brought  nothing;  soon  found  there  was  a  little 
closet,  on  which  my  knees  found  rest,  and,  after  emptying 
my  heart,  and  washing  the  bricks  with  my  tears,  returned 
to  my  poor  William,  and  found  him  and  Ann  both  in  want 
of  a  preacher.  Dear  puss,  she  soon  found  a  rope  that  had 
tied  her  bor,  began  jumping  away  to  warm  herself,  for  the 
coldness  of  the  walls  and  bricks  made  us  shiver.  At  sunset, 
dinner  came  from  the  kind  Filicchis,  with  other  necessaries ; 
we  went  to  the  grate  again  to  see  them.  And  now,  on  the 
ship-mattresses  spread  on  this  cool  floor,  my  William  and 
Anna  are  sound  asleep,  and  T  trust  that  God,  who  has  given 
him  strength  to  go  through  a  day  of  such  exertion,  will 
carry  us  on.  He  is  our  all  indeed.  My  eyes  smart  so  much 
with  crying,  wind,  and  fatigue,  that  I  must  close  them  and 
lift  up  my  heart;  sleep  won't  come  very  easily.  If  you  had 
seen  little  Anna's  arms  clasped  around  my  neck,  at  her 
prayers,  while  the  tears  rolled  a  stream,  how  you  would  love 
her !  I  read  her  to  sleep,  little  pieces  of  trust  in  God ;  she 
said,  '  Mamma,  if  papa  should  die  here — but  God  will  be 
with  us.'  God  is  with  us,  and  if  sufferings  abound  in  us, 
his  consolations  also  greatly  abound,  and  far  exceed  an  ut- 
terance. If  the  wind  (for  it  is  said  there  were  never  such 
storms  at  this  season)  that  now  almost  puts  out  my  light  and 
blows  on  my  William  at  every  crevice,  and  over  our  chim- 
ney like  loud  thunder,  could  come  from  any  but  his  com- 
mand,— or  if  the  circumstances  that  have  placed  us  in  so  for- 
lorn a  situation  were  not  guided  by  his  hand, — miserable  in- 
deed would  be  our  case.  Within  this  hour  he  has  had  a 
violent  fit  of  coughing,  so  as  to  bring  up  blood,  which  agi- 
tates and  distresses  him  through  all  his  endeavors  to  hide  it. 
What  shall  we  say  ?  This  is  the  hour  of  trial ;  the  Lord  sup- 
port and  strengthen  us  in  it!  Retrospections  bring  anguish- 
'  press  forward  toward  the  mark  and  prize.' 


60  THE    LIFE    Of 

"20th,  Sunday  morning. — The  matin  bells  awakened  my 
Krai  to  its  most  painful  regrets,  and  filled  it  with  an  agony 
of  sorrow  which  would  not  at  first  find  relief  even  in  prayer. 
In  the  little  closet,  from  whence  there  is  a  view  of  the  open 
sea  and  the  beatings  of  the  waves  against  the  high  rocks  at 
the  entrance  of  this  prison,  which  throws  them  violently 
back  and  raises  the  white  foam  as  high  as  its  walls,  I  first 
came  to  my  senses,  and  reflected  that  I  was  offending  my 
only  Friend  and  resource  in  my  misery,  and  voluntarily  shut- 
ting from  my  soul  the  only  consolation  it  could  receive. 
Pleading  for  mercy  and  strength  brought  peace,  and,  with  a 
cheerful  countenance,  I  asked  William  what  we  should  do 
for  breakfast.  The  doors  were  unbarred,  and  a  bottle  of 
milk  set  down  in  the  entrance  of  the  room,  poor  Philip 
fearing  to  come  too  near.  Little  Anna  and  William  ate  it 
with  bread,  and  I  walked  the  floor  with  a  crust  and  a  glass 
of  wine.  William  could  not  sit  up.  His  ague  came  on,  and 
my  soul's  agony  with  it.  My  husband  on  the  cold  bricks 
without  fire,  shivering  and  groaning,  lifting  his  dim  and 
sorrowful  eyes  with  a  fixed  gaze  in  my  face,  while  his  tears 
ran  on  his  pillow  without  one  word.  Anna  rubbed  one 
hand,  I  the  other,  till  his  fever  came  on.  The  Capitano 
brought  us  news  that  our  time  was  lessened  five  days — told 
me  to  be  satisfied  with  the  dispensations  of  God,  &c.,  and 
was  answered  by  such  a  succession  of  sobs  that  he  soon  de- 
parted. Mr.  Filicchi  now  came  to  comfort  my  William, 
and  when  he  went  away  we  said  as  much  of  our  blessed 
service  as  William  could  go  through.  I  then  was  obliged 
to  lay  my  head  down.  Dinner  was  sent  from  town,  and  a 
Bervant  to  stay  with  us  during  our  quarantine, — Louis,  an  old 
man,  very  little,  with  gray  hairs  and  blue  eyes,  which  changed 
their  expression  from  joy  to  sorrow,  as  if  they  would  console 
and  still  enliven.  My  face  was  covered  with  a  handker- 
ihicf  when  he  came  in,  and,  tired  of  the  sight  of  men  with 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  61 

docked  hats,  cockades,  and  bayonets,  I  did  not  look  up 
Poor  Louis !  how  long  shall  I  remember  his  voice  of  sorrow 
tnd  tenderness  when  refusing  the  dinner!  He  .ooked  up 
with  lifted  hands  in  some  prayer  that  God  would  comfort 
me,  and  so  I  was  comforted  when  I  did  not  look  at  my  poor 
William  $  but  to  see  him  as  he  then  was  was  worse  than  to 
eee  him  dead.  And  now  the  bolts  of  another  door  were 
hammered  open,  and  Louis,  who  was  become  an  object  of 
equal  terror,  having  entered  our  room  and  touched  what  we 
had  touched,  had  an  apartment  allotted  him.  How  many 
times  did  the  poor  old  man  run  up  and  down  the  nearly- 
perpendicular  twenty  steps  to  get  things  necessary  for  our 
comfort  next  morning !  When  all  was  done,  I  handed  him 
a  chair  that  he  might  rest.  He  jumped  almost  over  it,  and 
danced  around  me  like  a  madman,  declaring  he  would  work 
all  night  to  serve  us.  My  William,  wearied  out,  was  soon 
asleep.  Ann,  with  a  flood  of  tears,  said  her  prayers  and 
soon  forgot  her  sorrows,  and  it  seemed  as  if  opening  my 
prayer-book  and  bending  my  knees  was  the  signal  for  my 
soul  to  find  rest.  It  was  nine  o'clock  with  us — three  at 
home.  I  imagined  what  I  had  so  often  enjoyed,  and  con- 
soled myself  with  the  thought  that,  though  separated  in  the 
body  six  thousand  miles,  my  soul  and  the  souls  that  I  love 
were  at  the  throne  of  grace  at  the  same  time  in  the  same 
prayers  to  one  Almighty  Father,  accepted  through  our 
adored  Redeemer  and  enlightened  by  one  blessed  Spirit. 
Then  did  it  rejoice  indeed  in  the  Lord,  and  triumph  in  the 
God  of  its  salvation.  After  prayers,  read  my  little  book  of 
sermons,  and  became  far  more  happy  than  I  had  been 
wretched.  Went  to  bed  at  twelve;  got  up  twice  to  prayera 
and  to  help  my  poor  William. 

"  Monday. — Awoke  with  the  same  rest  and  comfort  with 
which  I  had  laid  down.  Gave  my  William  his  warm  milk, 
and  began  to  consider  our  situation,  though  so  unfavorable 


62  THE    LIFE    OF 

to  hia  complaint,  as  one  of  the  steps  in  the  dispensations  of 
that  Almighty  will  which  could  alone  choose  right  for  us; 
and  therefore  set  Ann  to  work,  and  myself  to  the  dear  Scrip- 
tures, as  usual,  lying  close  behind  the  poor  shiverer  to  keep 
him  from  the  ague.  Our  Capitano  came  with  his  guards 
and  put  up  a  very  neat  bed  and  curtains,  sent  by  Filicchi, 
and  fixed  the  benches  on  which  Ann  and  I  were  to  lie;  tooK 
down  our  names — Signore  G-ulielmo,  Signora  Elizabeth,  and 
Signora  Anna  Maria.  The  voice  of  kindness  which  again 
entreated  me  to  look  up  to  le  bon  Dieu  made  me  look  up 
to  the  speaker;  and  in  our  Capitano  I  found  every  expression 
of  a  benevolent  heart.  His  great  cocked  hat  being  off,  I 
found  it  had  hid  his  gray  hairs  and  a  kind  and  affectionate 
countenance.  *  I  had  a  wife ;  I  loved  her — I  loved  her.  Oh ! 
she  gave  me  a  daughter  which  she  commended  to  my  care, 
and  died.'  He  clasped  his  hands  and  looked  up,  and  then 
at  my  William.  'If  God  calls,  what  can  we  do?  et  qut 
voulez-vous,  Signora  f  I  began  to  love  my  Capitano.  Read, 
and  jumped  the  rope  to  warm  me;  looked  around  our  prison 
and  found  that  our  situation  was  beautiful;  comforted  my 
William  all  I  could,  rubbing  his  hands,  and  wiping  his  tears, 
and  giving  words  to  his  soul,  which  was  too  weak  to  pray 
for  itself;  heard  Ann  read,  while  I  watched  the  setting  sun 
in  a  cloud.  After  both  were  asleep,  read,  prayed,  wept,  and 
prayed  again,  until  eleven;  at  no  loss  to  know  the  hours 
night  and  day;  four  bells  strike  every  hour  and  ring  every 
quarter. 

"Tuesday. — My  William  was  better,  and  very  much  en- 
couraged by  his  doctor,  Tutilli,  who  was  very  kind  to  him ; 
also  our  Capitano,  who  now  seemed  to  understand  me  a 
little,  again  repeated,  '  I  loved  my  wife — I  loved  her,  and 
she  died,  et  que  voulez-vous,  Signora  f  Talked  with  the 
Filicchis  at  the  grate,  and  with  great  difficulty  got  my  Wil- 
liam up  the  stairs  again;  nursed  him,  read  to  him,  and 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  63 

heard  Ann  read,  and  made  the  most  of  our  troubles.  Our 
Louis  brought  us  an  elegant  bouquet — jessamines,  geraniums, 
pinks,  &c. ;  be  makes  excellent  soup ;  cooks  all  with  char- 
coal in  a  litt.e  pot.  No  sunset ;  heavy  gale,  which,  if  any 
thing  could  move  our  walls,  would  certainly  bring  them 
down ;  the  roaring  of  the  sea  sounds  like  thunder ;  passed 
my  evening  as  the  last,  quite  reconciled  to  the  sentinel's 
watch  and  bolts  and  bars ;  not  afraid  of  my  candle,  as  the 
window-shutter  is  the  only  piece  of  wood  about  us. 

"  Wednesday. — Not  only  willing  to  take  my  cross,  but 
kissed  it  too ;  and  while  glorying  in  our  consolations,  my 
poor  William  was  taken  with  an  ague  which  was  almost  too 
much  for  him.  He  told  me,  as  he  had  often  done  before, 
that  it  was  too  late ;  his  strength  was  going  from  him  every 
hour,  and  he  should  go  gradually,  but  not  long.  This  to 
me :  to  his  friends  quite  cheerful ;  he  was  not  able  to  go  to 
them ;  they  were  admitted  to  our  door ;  must  not  touch  the 
least  thing  near  us;  and  a  point  of  our  Capitano's  stick 
warded  my  William  off,  when  in  eager  conversation  he  would 
go  too  near.  It  reminded  me  of  going  to  see  the  lions.  One 
of  the  guards  brought  a  pot  of  incense  also  to  purifv  our 
air.  A  quiet  half  hour  at  sunset ;  Ann  and  I  sang  advent 
hymns  with  a  low  voice.  Oh !  after  all  was  asleep,  said  our 
dear  service  alone — William  had  not  been  able  in  the  day ; 
found  heavenly  consolation,  forgot  prisons,  bolts,  and  sor- 
rows, and  would  have  rejoiced  to  have  sung  with  St  Paui 
and  Silas. 

"  Thursday. — I  find  my  present  opportunity  a  treasure, 
and  my  confinement  of  body  a  liberty  of  soul,  which  I  may 
never  again  enjoy  while  they  are  united.  Every  moment 
iiot  spent  with  iny  dear  books,  or  in  my  nursing  duty,  is  a 
losa.  Ann  is  so  happy  with  her  rag-baby  and  little  presents, 
it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  her.  Our  Capitano  brought  us  new* 
that  other  five  days  were  granted,  and  the  19th  of  Dcc*-oibvi 


64  THE    LIFE    OF 

we  were  free.  Poor  William  says  with  a  groan,  '  I  beliere 
before  then.'  We  pray  and  cry  together,  till  fatigue  over- 
powers him,  and  then  he  says  he  is  willing  to  go.  Cheering 
up  is  useless;  he  seems  easier  after  venting  his  sorrow, 
and  always  gets  quiet  sleep  after  his  struggle.  A  heavj 
Btorm  of  wind,  which  drives  the  spray  from  the  sea  against 
our  window,  adds  to  his  melancholy.  If  I  could  forget  my 
God  one  moment  at  these  times,  I  should  go  mad ;  but  He 
hushes  all.  '  Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God  your  Father.' 
Dear  home,  dearest  sisters,  my  little  ones — well — either  pro- 
tected by  God  in  this  world  or  in  heaven.  It  is  a  sweet 
thought  to  dwell  on,  that  all  those  I  most  tenderly  love  love 
God,  and  if  we  do  not  meet  again  here,  there  we  shall  be 
separated  no  more.  If  I  have  lost  them  now,  their  gain  is 
infinite  and  eternal.  How  often  I  tell  my  William,  <  when 
you  awake  in  that  world  you  will  find  nothing  could  tempt 
you  to  return  to  this ;  you  will  see  that  your  care  over  your 
wife  and  little  ones  was  like  a  hand,  only  to  hold  the  cup, 
which  God  himself  will  give  if  he  takes  you.'  Heavenly 
Father,  pity  the  weak  and  burdened  souls  of  thy  poor  crea- 
tures who  have  not  strength  to  look  to  thee,  and  lift  us  from 
the  dust  for  his  sake,  our  resurrection  and  our  life,  Jesus 
Christ,  our  adored  Redeemer. 

"  Friday. — A  day  of  bodily  pain,  but  peace  with  God. 
Kneeled  on  our  mats  round  *7  e  table  and  said  our  dear  ser- 
vice; the  storm  of  vnnd  so  great.  Carlton  was  admitted 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  from  the  top  I  conversed  with 
him,  which  is  always  a  great  pleasure,  as  he  seems  to  me 
next  to  an  angel.  Ventured  to  remind  my  poor  William 
that  it  was  our  darling  William's  birthday,  which  cost  him 
many  tears ;  he  also  cried  over  our  dear  Harriet's  profile — 
indeed  he  is  sc  weak  that  even  a  thought  of  home  makes 
him  she  1  tears.  How  gracious  is  our  Lord  who  strengthen* 
my  poor  soul!  Consider  my  husband,  who  left  his  all  to 


MBS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  65 

geek  a  milder  climate,  confined  in  this  place  of  high  and 
damp  walls,  exposed  to  cold  and  wind,  which  penetrates  tc 
the  very  bones,  without  fire  except  the  kitchen  charcoal 
which  oppresses  his  breast  so  much  as  to  nearly  convulse 
him  ;  no  little  syrups,  nor  softener  of  the  cough ;  milk  and 
bark.  Iceland  moss,  and  opium  pills,  (which  he  takes  quietly 
as  a  duty,  without  seeming  even  to  hope,)  is  all  I  can  offer 
him  from  day  to  day.  When  nature  fails,  and  I  can  no 
longer  look  up  with  cheerfulness,  I  hide  my  head  on  the 
chair  by  his  bedside,  and  he  thinks  I  am  praying;  and  pray 
I  do,  for  prayer  is  all  my  comfort — without  it  I  should  be 
of  little  service  to  him;  night  and  day  he  calls  me  'his  life, 
his  soul,  his  dearest,  his  all.'  Our  Capitano  came  this  after- 
noon, and  seeing  poor  William  in  a  high  fever,  said,  '  In 
this  room  what  sufferings  have  I  seen  !  There  lay  an  Ar- 
menian begging  a  knife  to  end  the  struggle  of  death ;  there 
where  the  Signora's  bed  is,  in  the  frenzy  of  fever,  a  French- 
man insisted  on  shooting  himself,  and  died  in  agonies/ 
Little  billets  of  paper  pasted  on  the  doors  mark  how  many 
days  different  persons  have  stayed,  and  the  shutter  is  all  over 
notched — 10,  20,  30,  40  days.  I  do  not  mark  ours,  trust- 
ing they  are  marked  above.  He  only  knows  best.  Dear, 
dear  William,  I  can  sometimes  inspire  him  for  a  few  mo- 
ments to  feel  that  it  wouid  be  sweet  to  die ;  he  always  says, 
*  My  Father  and  my  God,  thy  will  be  done.'  Our  Father 
in  pity  and  compassion,  our  God  in  power,  to  succor  and  to 
save,  who  promises  to  pardon  and  save  us  through  our 
adored  Redeemer,  who  will  not  let  those  perish  for  whom  ha 
has  shed  his  precious  blood.  Only  to  reflect,  if  we  did  not 
know  and  love  God — if  we  did  not  feel  the  consolations  and 
embrace  the  cheering  hope  he  has  set  before  us,  and  find 
our  delight  in  the  study  of  his  blessed  word  and  truth,  whal 
would  become  of  us  ? 

••  E 


66 


'  Though  torn  from  nature's  most  endearing  ties, 
The  heart's  warm  hope,  and  love's  maternal  glow, 


•         *»»»****• 
Though  sorrows  still  affecting  ills  prepare, 

And  o'er  each  passing  day  her  presence  lowers, 
And  darkened  fancy  shades  with  many  cares, 
With  many  trials  crowds  the  future  hours: 
Still  in  the  Lord  I  will  rejoice, 
Still  to  my  God  I  lift  my  voice, 
Father  of  mercies !  still  my  grateful  lays 
Shall  hymn  thy  name,  exulting  in  thy  praise. 

J.  H.  H 

"  Capitano  says, '  all  religions  are  good ;  it  is  good  to  keep 
one's  own,  but  yours  is  not  as  good  as  mine — to  do  to  others 
as  you  would  wish  them  to  do  to  you — that  is  all  religion 
and  the  only  point.'  Tell  me,  dear  Capitano,  do  you  take 
this  as  a  good  principle  only,  or  also  as  a  command  ?  '  I 
reverence  the  command,  Signora.'  Well,  Mons.  Capitano, 
he  who  commands  your  excellent  rule  also  commanded  in 
the  first  place :  '  Love  the  Lord  your  God  with  all  your 
soul,'  and  do  you  not  give  that  the  first  place,  Capitauo  ? 
'Ah,  Signora,  it  is  excellent,  mats  il  y  a  tant  de  choscs.' 
Poor  Capitano,  sixty  years  of  age,  and  yet  to  find  that  to 
give  God  the  soul  interferes  with  so  many  things !  Dear 
little  Ann, — 'the  child  shall  die  a  hundred  years  old,  and 
the  sinner  a  hundred  years  old  shall  be — lost !' 

"  Tuesday,  2$th  Nov. — Was  obliged  to  go  to  bed  at  ten 
last  night,  to  get  warm  in  little  Ann's  arms ;  awoke  this 
morning  while  the  moon  was  setting  opposite  our  window, 
but  could  not  enjoy  its  brightness,  as  the  spray  from  the 
sea  keeps  the  glass  always  thick;  laid  in  bed  till  nine  with 
little  Ann,  to  explain  to  her  our  Te  Deum.  fehe  said,  '  One 
thing  always  troubles  me,  mamma ;  our  Saviour  says,  They 
who  would  reign  with  him  must  suffer  with  him,  and  if  1 
was  now  cut  off,  where  should  T  go,  for  I  have  not  yet  Suf- 


MRS.    E.    A.    SLTON.  67 

fored  ?'  She  coughs  very  much,  with  a  great  deal  of  pain  in 
the  breast.  She  said,  'Sometimes  I  think,  when  this  pain 
comes  in  my  breast,  that  God  will  call  me  soon,  and  take  me 
from  this  world,  where  I  am  always  offending  him ;  and  how 
good  would  that  be,  if  he  gives  me  a  sickness  that  I  may 
bear  patiently,  that  I  may  try  and  please  him!'  My  Anna, 
you  please  him  every  day  when  you  help  me  through  my 
troubles.  'Oh,  do  I,  mamma?  thank  God,  thank  God !'  After 
breakfast,  read  our  psalms  and  the  35th  chapter  of  Isaiah  to 
my  William,  with  so  much  delight,  that  it  made  us  all  merry; 
he  read,  at  little  Ann's  request,  the  last  chapter  of  Reve- 
lations, but  the  tones  of  his  voice  no  heart  can  stand.  A 
storm  of  wind  still,  and  very  cold.  William,  with  a  blanket 
over  his  shoulders,  creeps  to  the  old  man's  fire;  Ann  jumps 
the  rope,  and  Matty  hops  on  one  foot  five  or  six  times  the 
leugth  of  the  room  without  stopping — laugh  at  me,  my  sister, 
but  it  is  very  good  exercise,  and  warms  sooner  than  a  fire 
when  there  is  a  warm  heart  to  set  it  in  motion.  Sang  hymns 
aud  read  promises  to  William,  shivering  under  the  bed- 
clothes, and  felt  that  God  is  with  us,  and  that  he  is  our  all. 
The  fever  comes  hot,  the  bed  shakes  even  with  his  breathing 
— my  God,  my  Father! 

"St.  Andrews,  3Qth  Nov. — William  again  by  the  kitchen 
tire.  Last  night,  thirty  or  forty  poor  souls  of  all  nations, 
Greeks,  Turks,  Spaniards,  and  Frenchmen,  arrived  here  from 
a  shipwreck — no  mattresses,  no  clothes  or  food — great-coats 
without  shirts — shirts  without  coats — these  sent  all  to  one 
room  with  naked  walls  and  the  jug  of  water,  until  the  com- 
mandant should  find  leisure  to  supply  them.  Our  Capitano 
gays  he  can  do  nothing  without  orders.  'Patience,  que  voulez- 
vous,  Signora?  Anna  says,  'for  all  we  are  so  cold  and  in 
this  prison,  mamma,  how  happy  we  are  compared  with  them, 
and  we  have  peace  too;  they  quarrel,  fight,  and  halloo  all 
jbe  time;  the  Capitano  sends  us  even  chestnuts  and  friifci 


68  THE    LIFE    OV 

from  hifl  own  table;  these  have  not  bread.'  Dear  Ann,  you 
will  see  many  more  such  mysteries.  At  William's  bedside, 
we  have  said  our  daily  service;  he  thought  it  would  stop  hia 
Bhiverings.  My  William's  soul  is  so  humble,  it  will  hardly 
embrace  that  faith,  its  only  resource.  At  any  time,  whom 
have  we  but  our  Redeemer?  but  when  the  spirit  is  on  th« 
brink  of  departure,  it  must  cling  to  him  with  increased  force, 
or  where  is  it?  Dear  William,  it  is  not  from  the  impulse 
of  terror  you  turn  to  your  God;  you  tried  and  wished  to 
serve  him,  long  before  this  trial  came;  why,  then,  will  you 
not  consider  him  as  the  Father  who  knows  all  the  different 
means  and  dispositions  of  his  children,  and  will  graciously 
receive  those  who  come  to  him  by  that  way  which  he  has 
appointed?  You  say  your  only  hope  is  in  Christ;  what  other 
hope  do  we  need  ?  He  says  that  the  first  effects  he  ever 
felt  from  the  calls  of  the  gospel  he  experienced  from  our 
dear  Hobart's  pressing  the  question  in  one  of  his  sermons : — 
'  What  avails  gaining  the  whole  world  and  losing  your  own 
soul?'*  The  reflections  he  made  when  he  returned  home 
were,  'I  toil  and  toil,  and  what  is  it?  what  I  gain  destroys 
me  daily,  soul  and  body;  I  live  without  God  in  the  world,  and 
shall  die  miserably.'  Mr.  F.  D.,  with  whom  he  had  not  been 
in  habits  of  business,  offered  to  join  him  in  an  adventure;  it 
succeeded  far  beyond  their  expectation.  Mr.  F.  D.  said,  when 
they  wound  it  up,  '  One  thing  you  know,  I  have  been  long 
in  business, — began  with  very  little — have  built  a  house,  and 
have  enough  to  build  another.  I  have  generally  succeeded 
in  my  undertakings,  and  attribute  all  to  this, — that,  whether 
they  are  great  or  small,  I  always  ask  a  blessing  of  God,  and 
look  to  that  blessing  for  success.'  William  says,  '  I  was 
struck  with  shame  and  sorrow  that  I  had  been  a  heathen  be- 


•  Rev.  John  Henry  Hobart  was  an  Episcopalian  minister  of  N«w 
York,  whose  church  Mrs.  Seton  frequented. 


MBS.  E.    A.    SETON  69 

fore  God/  These  he  calls  his  two  warnings  which 
awakened  his  soul,  and  speaks  of  them  always  with  tears. 
Oh,  the  promises  he  makes  if  it  please  God  to  spare 
him! 

"  Have  had  our  mate  to  see  us  from  Captain  O'Brien— 
talked  out  of  the  window  to  him ;  and  one  of  the  sailors,  who 
seemed  to  love  us  as  his  own  soul,  always  flying  to  serve  and 
trying  to  please  us  while  on  board,  came  with  him.  Poor 
Charles !  he  turned  pale  when  he  saw  my  head  out  of  the 
iron  bars,  and  called  out,  'Why,  Mrs.  Seton,  are  you  in  a 
prison  ?'  He  looked  behind  all  the  way  as  he  went,  and  shook 
his  head  at  Ann  as  long  as  he  could  see  her.  Charles  had 
lived  at  the  quarantine  at  Staten  Island,  and  that,  without 
his  good  and  affectionate  heart,  would  make  me  love  him. 
I  shall  never  hear  a  sailor's  yo !  yo !  without  thinking  of  hia 
melancholy  song.  He  is  the  captain's  and  everybody's 
favorite.  How  gracious  is  my  adored  Master,  who  gives 
even  to  the  countenance  of  the  stranger  the  look  of  kind- 
ness and  pity !  From  the  time  we  first  landed  here,  one  of 
the  guards  of  our  room  looked  always  with  sorrow  and  sym- 
pathy upon  us,  and,  though  I  cannot  understand  him  nor  he 
me,  we  talk  away  very  fast.  He  showed  me  yesterday  he 
was  very  sick,  by  pointing  to  his  breast  and  throat.  When 
the  Capitano  came,  I  told  him  how  sorry  I  was  for  poor 
Philippo.  'Oh,  Signora,  he  is  very  well  off;  he  has  been 
two  years  married  to  a  very  handsome  young  woman  of 
sixteen,  has  two  children,  and  receives  3s.  &d.  per  day:  to 
be  sure,  he  is  obliged  to  sleep  in  the  lazaretto,  but  in  the 
morning  goes  home  to  his  wife  for  an  hour  or  two;  it  is  not 
possible  to  spare  him  longer  from  his  duty.  Et  que  voulez- 
vous,  Siynoraf  Good  and  merciful  Father,  who  gives  con- 
tent to  a  cheerful  heart  with  3s.  6d.  per  day;  a  wife  and 
two  children  to  maintain  with  such  a  pittance !  Often  let 
me  think  of  Philippo,  when  I  have  not  enough,  or  think  I 


70  THE    LIFE    OF 

have  not      He  is  twenty-two,  his  wife  eighteen.     Thought 
goes  to  two  at  home  most  dear — H.  and  B. 

•'  Went  to  the  railings  with  little  Anna,  to  receive  from 
our  Capitano's  daughter  a  baby  she  had  been  making  for 
her.  She  has  a  kind,  good  countenance,  and  hangs  on  her 
father's  arm;  has  refused  an  offer  of  marriage,  that  she  may 
take  care  of  him.  Such  a  sight  awakened  my  recollections 

"Dec.  1. — Arose  between  six  and  seven,  before  the  day 
had  dawned — the  light  of  the  moon  opposite  our  window 
was  still  the  strongest — not  a  breath  of  wind — the  sea,  which 
before  I  had  always  seen  in  violent  commotion,  now  gently 
seemed  to  creep  to  the  rocks  it  had  so  long  been  beating 
over — every  thing  around  us  at  rest  except  two  little  white 
gulls  flying  to  the  westward  toward  my  home,  toward  my 
loves, — that  thought  did  not  do, — flying  toward  heaven,  where 
I  tried  to  send  my  soul — the  angel  of  peace  met  it,  and 
poured  over  the  oil  of  love  and  praise,  driving  off  every  vain 
imagination,  and  led  it  to  its  Saviour  and  its  l>od.  «  We  praise 
thee,  0  God !  the  dear  strain  of  praise  in  which  I  always 
seem  to  meet  the  souls  I  love,  and  Our  Father— these  two 
prayers  are  the  union  of  love  and  praise,  and  in  them  the 
BOU!  meets  all.  At  ten  o'clock  read  with  William  and  Anna 
— at  twelve  he  was  at  rest,  Ann  playing  in  the  next  room. 
Alone  to  all  the  world — one  of  those  sweet  pauses  in  spirit, 
when  the  body  seems  to  me  forgotten,  came  over  me.  In 
the  year  1789,  when  my  father  was  in  England,  one  morn- 
ing in  May,  in  the  lightness  of  a  cheerful  heart  I  jumped  in 
the  wagon  that  was  driving  to  the  woods  for  brush,  about 
a  mile  from  home;  the  boy  who  drove  it  began  to  cut,  and  I 
set  off  in  the  woods,  soon  found  an  outlet  in  a  meadow,  and 
a  chestnut-tree,  with  several  young  ones  growing  around  it 
attracted  my  attention  as  a  seat;  but  when  I  came  to  it, 
found  rich  moss  under  it  and  a  warm  sun.  Here,  then,  wa« 
«  eweet  bed — the  air  still,  a  clear  blue  vault  above — the  num 


MRS.   E.   A.   8ETON.  71 

berless  sounds  of  spring-melody  and  joy — the  sweet  cloyers 
and  wild-flowers  I  had  got  by  the  way,  and  a  heart  as  inno- 
cent as  human  heart  could  be,  filled  even  with  enthusiastic 
love  to  God  and  admiration  of  his  works.  Still  I  can  feel 
crery  sensation  that  passed  through  my  soul;  I  thought  at 
that  time  my  father  did  not  care  for  me.  Well,  God  was  my 
Father,  my  all.  I  prayed,  sang  hymns,  cried,  laughed,  talk- 
ing to  myself  of  how  far  He  could  place  me  above  all  sor- 
row. Then  I  laid  still  to  enjoy  the  heavenly  peace  that 
came  over  my  soul,  and  I  am  sure,  in  the  two  hours  so  en- 
joyed, grew  ten  years  in  my  spiritual  life;  told  cousin  Joe 
to  go  home  with  his  wood,  not  to  mind  me,  and  walked  a 
mile  round  to  see  the  roof  of  the  parsonage.  There  I  made 
another  hearty  prayer,  then  sang  all  the  way  home,  with  a 
good  appetite  for  the  samp  and  fat  pork.  Well,  all  this  came 
strong  in  my  head  this  morning,  when,  as  I  tell  you,  the 
body  let  the  spirit  alone.  I  had  prayed  and  cried  heartily, 
which  is  my  daily  and  hourly  comfort,  and,  closing  my  eyes 
with  my  head  upon  the  table,  lived  all  those  sweet  hours 
over  again — made  believe  I  was  under  the  chestnut-tree — 
felt  so  peaceable  a  heart,  so  full  of  love  to  God — such  con- 
fidence and  hope  in  him.  The  wintry  storms  of  time  shall 
be  over,  and  the  unclouded  spring  enjoyed  forever.  So 
you  see,  as  you  know,  with  God  for  our  portion,  there  is  no 
prison  in  high  walls  and  bolts;  no  sorrow  in  the  soul  that 
waits  on  him,  though  beset  with  present  cares  and  gloomy 
prospects.  For  this  freedom  I  can  never  be  sufficiently 
thankful,  as  in  my  William's  case  it  keeps  alive  what  in  his 
weak  state  of  body  would  naturally  fail;  and  often  when  he 
hears  me  repeat  the  psalms  of  triumph  in  God,  and  read 
St.  Paul's  faith  in  Christ,  with  my  whole  soul,  it  so  enlivens 
his  spirit  that  he  makes  them  also  his  own,  and  all  our  sor 
rows  are  turned  into  joy.  Oh,  well  may  I  love  God,  well 
may  my  whole  soul  strive  to  please  him,  for  what  but  the 


72  THE     LIVE    Off 

pen  of  an  angel  can  ever  express  what  he  has  done  and  ii 
constantly  doing  for  me?  While  I  live,  while  I  have  my 
being  in  time  and  through  eternity,  let  me  sing  praises  to 
my  God. 

"Dec.  2. — Enjoyed  the  morn  and  daybreak;  read  the 
commentary  on  the  104th  psalm,  and  sang  hymns  in  bed  till 
ten ;  a  hard  frost  in  the  night ;  endeavored  to  make  a  fire 
in  my  room  with  brush,  but  was  smoked  out;  the  pool 
strangers,  almost  mad  with  cold  and  hunger,  quarrelled 
battled,  and  at  last  sat  down  in  companies  on  the  grass  witi 
cards,  which  made  them  as  noisy  as  their  anger.  Patience ! 
Anna  sick,  William  tired  out!  A  clear  sunset,  which 
cheered  my  heart,  though  it  was  all  the  time  singing  DC 
profundis,  from  the  lowest  depth  of  wo ;  the  A  ve  Marie 
bell  rings,  while  the  sun  sets,  on  one  side  of  us,  and  the 
bells  'for  the  dead'  on  the  other;  the  latter  sometimes  con- 
tinue  a  long  while;  in  the  morning  always  call  again  to 
pray  for  the  'souls  in  purgatory.'  Our  Capita  no  said  a 
great  deal  on  the  pleasure  I  should  enjoy  on  Christmas  at 
Pisa,  in  seeing  all  the  ceremonies.  The  enjoyments  of 
Christmas  !  Heavenly  Father,  who  knows  my  inmost  soul, 
he  knows  how  it  would  enjoy,  and  will  also  pity  while  it  is 
cut  off  from  what  it  so  much  longs  for.  One  thing  is  in 
my  power — though  communion  with  those  my  soul  loves  is 
not  within  my  reach  in  one  sense,  in  the  other  what  can 
deprive  me  of  it  ? — still  in  spirit  we  may  meet.  At  five 
o'clock  here  it  will  be  twelve  there.  At  five,  then,  in  some 
corner  on  my  knees  I  may  spend  the  time  they  are  at  the 
altar;  and  if  the  cup  of  salvation  cannot  be  received  :n  (he 
strange  land  evidently,  virtually  it  may,  with  the  biessing 
of  Christ,  and  the  cup  of  thanksgiving  supply  in  a  degree 
that  which,  if  I  could  obtain  it,  would  be  my  strongest  de- 
gire.  Oh,  my  soul !  what  can  shut  us  out  from  the  love  of 
Him  who  will  even  dwell  within  us  through  love  ? 


MBS.   E.   A.    6ETON.  78 

"Dec.  4. — Our  Captain  O'Brien  and  his  wife  found 
their  way  to  us — '  must  not  touch  Signora,'  says  Philippe, 
dividing  us  with  his  stick.  Kind  and  affectionate  captain, 
when  I  ran  down  to  meet  him,  the  tears  danced  in  his  eyes, 
while  poor  William  and  Ann  peeped  through  the  grates. 
Mrs.  O'Brien  began  to  cry ;  we  could  not  see  them  but  a 
few  minutes  for  the  cold.  Our  lazaretto  captain  had  sent 
us  andirons,  small  wood,  &c.,  and  I  have  doctored  the  chim- 
ney with  a  curtain,  so  as  to  make  the  smoke  bearable ;  have 
had  an  anxious  day  between  father  and  Ann.  She  was 
very  ill  for  some  hours ;  when  the  cause  of  her  sufferings 
was  removed,  we  went  on  our  knees  together.  Oh,  may  her 
dear  soul  long  send  forth  such  precious  tears  !  Dear,  dear 
Rebecca,  how  often  have  we  nursed  up  the  fire  together,  as 
I  do  now  alone  ! — alone  ?  recall  the  word — my  Bible,  com- 
mentaries, Kempis, — visible  and  continual  enjoyment, — 
when  I  cannot  get  hours,  I  take  minutes.  Invisible  !  Oh, 
the  company  is  numberless.  Sometimes  I  feel  so  assured 
that  the  Guardian  Angel  is  immediately  present  that  I  look 
from  my  book,  and  can  hardly  be  persuaded  I  was  not 
touched.  'Poor  soul!'  John  Henry  Hobart  would  say,  'she 
will  lose  her  reason  in  that  prison/  But  the  enjoyments 
only  come  when  all  is  quiet  and  I  have  passed  an  hour  or 
two  with  King  David  or  the  prophet  Isaiah.  Those  hours, 
I  often  think,  I  shall  hereafter  esteem  the  most  precious  in 
my  life.  My  Father  and  my  God,  who  by  the  consoling 
voice  of  his  word  builds  up  the  soul  in  hope,  so  as  to 
free  it  even  for  hours  of  its  encumbrance,  confirming  and 
strengthening  it  by  constant  experience  of  his  indulgent 
goodness,  giving  it  a  new  life  in  him,  even  while  in  tht 
midst  of  pains  and  sufferings  sustaining,  directing,  con- 
ioling,  and  blessing,  through  every  changing  scene  of  its 
pilgrimage,  making  his  will  its  guide  to  temporal  comfort 
md  eternal  glory, — how  shall  the  most  unwearied  diligence, 
r 


74  THE     LIFE     OF 

the  most  cheerful  compliance,  the  most  tumble  lesignation, 
ever  enough  express  my  love,  my  joy,  thanksgiving,  and 
praise  ? 

"Dec.  12. — A  week  has  passed,  my  dear  sister,  without 
even  one  little  memorandum  of  the  pen.  The  first  day  of 
it,  (Sunday,)  that  dear  day  in  which  I  always  find  my  bless- 
ing, was  passed  in  uninterrupted  prayers,  anxiety,  and 
watching.  On  the  5th,  (Monday,)  was  early  awakened  by 
my  poor  William  in  great  suffering;  sent  for  the  doctor 
Tutilli,  who,  as  soon  as  he  saw  him,  told  him  he  was  not 
wanted,  but  I  must  send  for  him  who  would  minister  to  his 
soul.  In  this  moment  I  stood  alone  as  to  the  world ;  my 
"William  looked  in  silent  agony  at  me,  and  I  at  him,  each 
fearing  to  weaken  the  other's  strength ;  at  the  moment  he 
drew  himself  toward  me,  and  said,  'I  breathe  out  my  soul 
with  you.'  The  exertion  he  made  assisted  nature's  remain- 
ing strength,  and  he  threw  a  quantity  from  his  lungs,  which 
had  threatened  to  stop  their  motion,  and,  so  doing,  expe- 
rienced so  great  a  revolution  that  in  a  few  hours  afterward 
he  seemed  nearly  the  same  as  when  we  entered  the  lazaretto. 
Oh,  that  day !  it  was  spent  close  by  his  bedside  on  my  little 
mat — he  slumbered  the  most  of  every  hour ;  and  did  I  not 
pray,  and  did  I  not  praise  ?  No  inquiring  visitor  disturbed 
the  solemn  silence — no  breakfast  or  dinner  to  interrupt  the 
rest.  Carlton  came  at  sunset ;  Mrs.  F.,  they  thought,  wap 
dying — he  thought  his  poor  brother  so — and  then  came  our 
Capitano  with  so  much  offered  kindness.  He  was  shocked 
at  the  tranquillity  of  my  William,  and  distressed  at  the 
thought  thai;  I  was  alone  with  him,  for  the  doctor  had  told 
him  that,  notwithstanding  his  present  relief,  if  the  exp-.cto- 
ni tii ii i  from  the  lungs  did  not  return  he  might  be  gone  in  a 
few  hours.  Would  I  have  some  one  in  the  room  ?  Oh  no ! 
what  had  I  to  fear  ?  And  what  had  I  to  fear  ?  I  lay  down 
as  if  to  rest,  that  he  might  not  be  uneasy ;  listened  aB- 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  75 

night — sometimes  by  the  fire,  sometimes  lying  down,  some- 
times thought  the  breathing  stopped,  and  sometimes,  alarmed 
by  its  heaviness,  kissed  his  poor  face  to  see  if  it  was  cold. 
Well,  I  was  alone ;  dear,  indulgent  Father !  could  I  be 
alone  while  clinging  fast  to  thee  in  continual  prayer  or 
thanksgiving,  prayer  for  him,  and  joy,  wonder,  and  de- 
^ght  to  feel  assured  that  what  I  had  so  fondly  hoped  and 
wnfidently  asserted  really  proved,  in  the  hour  of  trial,  tc 
be  more  than  I  could  hope,  more  than  I  could  conceive  ? 
that  my  God  could  and  would  bear  me  through  the  most 
severe  trials,  with  that  strength,  confidence,  and  affiance, 
which,  if  every  circumstance  of  the  case  was  considered, 
seemed  more  than  a  human  being  would  expect  or  hope  ? 
But  his  consolations,  who  shall  speak  them  ?  How  can 
utterance  be  given  to  that  which  only  his  spirit  can  feel  ? 
At  daylight,  the  wished-for  change  took  place.  Mr  Hall* 
came  in  the  morning  with  Mr.  Filicchi  and  the  Capitano ; 
went  away  with  a  promise  to  come  again,  and  the  inter- 
vening days  and  evenings  have  been  spent  in  constant  at- 
tention to  the  main  concern,  but,  from  a  singularity  of  dis- 
position which  rather  delights  in  going  on  than  in  retro- 
specting  sorrow,  have  rather  (when  I  could  only  keep  awake 
by  wnting,  according  to  the  old  custom)  busied  myself  in 
writing  the  first  sermon  for  my  dear  little  Dick.  William 
goes  on  gently,  but  keeps  me  busy.  Ann  is  a  treasure. 
She  was  reading  yesterday  that  John  was  imprisoned. 
'Yes,  papa,  Herod  imprisoned  him,  and  Miss  Herodiaa 
gave  him  liberty.'  'No,  my  dear;  she  had  him  beheaded.' 
'Well,  papa,  she  released  him  from  prison  and  sent  him  to 
God.'  Child  after  my  own  heart ! 

"Dec.  13. — Five  days  more,  and  our  quarantine  is  ended 
lodgings  are  engaged  at  Pisa,  on  the  borders  of  the  Arno 

*  Protestant  Chaplain  of  the  British  Factory  at  Leghorn. 


76  THE    LIFE    01 

My  heart  used  to  be  full  of  poetical  visions  about  this 
famous  river,  but  it  has  no  room  for  visions  now;  one  only 
vision  is  before  it.  No  one  ever  saw  my  William  without 
giving  him  the  quality  of  an  amiable  man;  but  to  see  that 
character  exalted  to  the  peaceful,  humble  Christian,  waiting 
the  will  of  God  with  a  patience  that  seemed  more  than  hu- 
man, and  a  firm  faith  which  would  do  honor  to  the  most  dis 
tinguished  piety,  is  a  happiness  that  is  allowed  only  to  the 
poor  little  mother  who  is  separated  from  all  other  happiness 
connected  with  this  scene  of  things.  No  sufferings,  nor 
weakness,  nor  distress,  (and  from  these  he  is  never  free  in 
any  degree,)  can  prevent  his  following  me  daily  in  prayer, 
the  psalms,  and  generally  large  readings  of  the  Scriptures 
If  he  is  a  little  better,  he  enlarges  his  attention;  if  worse, 
he  is  more  eager  not  to  lose  a  moment;  and,  except  the  day 
which  we  thought  his  last,  he  has  never  failed  one  day  in 
this  course  since  our  entrance  in  these  stone  walls,  the  19th 
of  November.  He  very  often  says,  this  is  the  period  of  his 
life  which,  if  he  live  or  die,  he  will  always  consider  as 
blessed,  the  only  time  which  he  has  not  lost.  Not  the  small- 
est murmur — oh !  and  lifting  up  of  the  eyes  is  the  strongest 
expression  I  have  yet  heard  from  him  in  the  rapid  progress 
of  his  complaint,  which  has  reduced  him  almost  to  nothing, 
and  from  its  very  nature  gives  him  no  release  from  irritation 
in  violent  coughing,  chills,  oppression,  weakness,  and  even 
in  the  weight  of  his  own  limbs  seems  more  than  a  mortal 
could  bear.  *  Why  art  thou  so  heavy,  0  my  soul  ?'  is  the 
only  comfort  he  seems  to  find  in  words;  often  talks  of  his 
darlings,  but  most  of  meeting  one  family  in  heaven;  talks 
of  those  we  have  left  behind,  as  if  it  was  but  yesterday,  and 
of  dear  Henry  Hobart,  whose  visits  and  society  he  misses 
most,  as  they  would  be  his  greatest  consolation  in  these 
hours  of  sorrow.  When  I  thank  God  for  my  creation  and 
preservation,  it  is  with  a  warmth  of  feeling  I  never  could 


MRS     £.    A.    8ETON  77 

*now  until  now :  to  wait  on  him  in  my  William's  soul  and 
body;  to  console  and  soothe  these  hours  of  affliction  and 
pain,  watching  and  weariness,  which  next  to  God  I  alone 
could  do;  to  strike  up  the  cheerful  notes  of  hope  and  Chris- 
tian triumph,  which  from  his  partial  love  he  hears  with  th« 
more  enjoyment  from  me,  because  to  me  he  attributes  the 
greatest  share  of  them;  to  hear  him,  in  pronouncing  th? 
name  of  his  Redeemer,  declare  that  I  first  taught  him  the 
sweetness  of  the  sound — oh,  if  I  was  in  the  dungeon  of  this 
lazaretto,  I  should  bless  and  praise  my  God  for  these  days 
of  retirement  and  abstraction  from  the  world,  which  have 
afforded  leisure  and  opportunity  for  so  blessed  a  work. 

"Dec.  14. — Said  my  dear  prayers  alone  while  William 
was  asleep;  did  not  dare  to  remind  him  of  them,  for  weak- 
ness and  pain  quite  overpower  him.  Rain  and  storm,  as  in- 
deed we  have  had  almost  every  day  of  the  twenty-six  we 
have  been  here.  The  dampness  about  us  would  be  thought 
dangerous  for  a  person  in  health — and  my  William's  suffer- 
ings— oh !  well  I  know  that  God  is  above.  Capitano,  you 
need  not  always  point  your  silent  look  and  finger  there;  if 
I  thought  our  condition  the  providence  of  man,  instead  of 
the  weeping  Magdalen,  as  you  so  graciously  call  me,  you 
would  find  me  a  lioness,  willing  to  burn  your  lazaretto  about 
your  ears,  if  it  was  possible,  that  I  might  carry  off  my  poor 
prisoner  to  breathe  the  air  of  heaven  in  some  more  seasonable 
place.  To  keep  a  poor  soul,  who  comes  to  your  country  for 
his  life,  thirty  days  shut  up  in  damp  walls,  smoke  and  wind 
from  all  quarters,  blowing  even  the  curtain  round  his  bed, 
(and  his  bones  almost  through,)  and  now  the  shadow  of 
death,  trembling  if  he  only  stands  a  few  minutes !  He  is  to 
go  to  Pisa  for  his  health — this  day  his  prospects  are  very  far 
from  Pisa — but  oh,  my  heavenly  Father !  I  know  that  these 
contradictory  events  are  permitted  and  guided  by  thy  wis- 
iifth,  which  only  is  light.  We  are  in  darkness,  and  must  be 
1* 


78  THE    LIFE    OF 

thankful  that  our  knowledge  is  not  wanted  to  perfect  thj 
work — and  also  keep  in  mind  that  infinite  mercy  which,  in 
permitting  the  sufferings  of  the  perishing  body,  has  provided 
for  our  souls  so  large  an  opportunity  of  comfort  and  nourish- 
ment for  an  eternal  life,  where  we  shall  assuredly  find  that 
all  things  have  worked  together  for  our  good,  for  our  sure 
trust  in  tkee. 

"Dec.  15. — Finished  reading  the  Testament  through, 
which  we  began  the  6th  of  October,  and  my  Bible  as  far  as 
Ezekiel,  which  I  have  always  read  to  myself  in  rotation,  but 
the  lessons  appointed  in  the  prayer-book  to  my  William. 
To-day,  read  him  several  passages  in  Isaiah,  which  he  en- 
joyed so  much  that  he  was  carried  for  a  while  out  of  his 
troubles — indeed,  our  reading  is  an  unfailing  comfort.  Wil- 
liam says  he  feels  like  a  person  brought  to  the  light  after 
many  years  of  darkness,  when  he  heard  the  Scriptures  as 
the  law  of  God,  and  therefore  sacred,  but  not  discerning 
what  part  he  had  in  them  or  feeling  that  they  were  the 
fountain  of  eternal  life. 

"Dec.  16. — A  heavy  day;  part  of  our  service  together, 
part  alone.  They  have  bolted  us  in  to-night,  expecting  to 
find  my  William  gone  to-morrow,  but  he  rests  quietly,  and 
God  is  with  us. 

"Dec.  17  and  18. — Melancholy  days  of  combat  with 
nature's  weakness,  and  the  courage  of  hope  which  pictured 
our  removal  from  the  lazaretto  to  Pisa. 

"Dec.  19. — Arose  with  the  light,  and  had  every  thing 
prepared  for  the  anxious  hour;  at  ten,  all  in  readiness,  and 
at  eleven  held  the  hand  of  my  William,  while  he  \ras  seated 
on  the  arms  of  two  men  and  conducted  from  the  lazaretto  to 
Filicchi's  coach,  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  gazers,  all 
sighing  out,  '  0  pauverino,'  while  my  heart  beat  almost  to 
fainting,  lest  he  should  die  in  the  exertion;  but  the  air  re- 
vived him;  his  spirits  were  cheerful;  and  through  fifteem 


MRS.    B.    A.    SETON.  7fi 

miles  of  heavy  roads  he  was  supported,  and  appeared  stronger 
than  when  he  set  out.  My  Father  and  my  God !  was  all  my 
full  heart  of  thankfulness  could  utter. 

"Dec.  20. — Let  me  stop  and  ask  myself  if  I  can  go 
through  the  remainder  of  my  memorandum  with  that  sin- 
cerity and  exactness  which  has  so  far  been  adhered  to; 
whether,  in  the  crowd  of  anxieties  and  sorrows  which  are 
pressed  in  so  small  a  compass  of  time,  the  overflowing  of 
feeling  can  be  suppressed,  and  my  soul  stand  singly  before 
my  God.  Yes,  every  moment  of  it  speaks  his  praise,  and 
therefore  it  shall  be  followed.  My  William  was  composed 
the  greater  part  of  the  day,  on  a  sofa,  delighted  with  his 
change  of  situation,  taste  and  elegance  of  every  thing  around 
him;  every  necessary  comfort  within  his  reach.  We  read, 
compared  past  and  present,  talked  of  heavenly  hopes,  and 
with  our  dear  Carlton,  (who  was  to  stay  with  us  four  days,) 
and  then  went  to  rest  in  hopes  of  a  good  night;  but  I  had 
scarcely  fixed  the  pillows  of  the  sofa,  which  I  made  my  bed, 
before  he  called  me  to  help  him,  and  from  that  moment, 
the  last  complaint,  which  Dr.  Tutilli  told  me  must  be  de- 
cisive, came  on. 

"Dec.  21. — A  kind  of  languid  weakness  seized  the 
mind  as  well  as  overpowered  the  body;  he  must  and  would 
ride.  The  physician,  Dr.  Cartelach,  whispered  me  he  might 
die  in  the  attempt ;  but  there  was  no  possibility  of  refusal, 
and  it  was  concluded  that  opposition  was  worse  than  any 
risk — and,  carried  down  in  a  chair,  and  supported  in  my 
trembling  arms  with  pillows,  we  rode.  Oh,  my  Father,  well 
did  you  strengthen  me  in  that  hour !  In  five  minutes  we 
were  forced  to  return,  and  to  get  him  out  of  the  coach,  and 
in  the  chair  up  the  stairs,  and  on  the  bed — words  can  never 
tell— 

"Dec.  22. — A  cloudy  day  and  quiet. 

"Dec.  23. — The  complaint  seemed  lessened,  and  rid* 


80  THE    LIFE    01 

again  we  must;  took  Madame  De  Tot  (the  lady  of  the  house) 
with  us,  and  returned  in  better  spirits,  and  more  able  to  help 
himself,  than  when  we  went  out;  and  I  really  began  to  think 
riding  must  be  good;  but  that  was  the  last. 

"Dec.  24. — Constant  suffering,  and  for  the  first  day  con 
fined  in  bed;  the  disorder  of  the  bowels  so  violent  that  ht 
said  he  could  not  last  till  morning;  talked  with  cheerfulness 
about  his  darlings,  thanked  God  that  he  had  given  him  time 
to  reflect  and  such  consolation  in  his  word  and  prayers;  and, 
with  the  help  of  a  small  portion  of  laudanum,  rested  until 
midnight.  He  then  awoke,  and  observed  I  had  not  laid 
down.  I  said,  'No,  love,  for  the  sweetest  reflections  keep  m» 
awake.  Christmas  day  is  begun ;  the  day  of  our  dear  Re- 
deemer's birth  here,  you  know,  is  the  day  that  opened  to  us 
the  door  of  everlasting  life.'  'Yes/  he  said,  'and  how  I 
wish  we  could  have  the  sacrament !  well,  we  must  do  all  we 
can ;'  and,  putting  a  little  wine  in  a  glass,  I  said  different  parts 
of  psalms  and  prayers  which  I  had  marked,  hoping  for  a 
happy  moment,  and  we  took  the  cup  of  thanksgiving,  setting 
aside  the  sorrow  of  time  in  the  view  of  eternity.  Oh,  so 
happy  to  find  its  joys  were  strongly  painted  to  him!  On 
Sunday,  O'Brien  came,  and  my  William  gave  me  in  his  charge 
to  take  me  home,  with  a  composure  and  serenity  that  made 
us  cold.  Did  not  pass  a  mouthful  through  my  lips  that  day, 
which  was  spent  on  my  knees  by  his  bedside,  every  mo- 
ment I  could  look  off  my  William;  he  anxiously  prayed  to 
be  released  that  day,  and  followed  me  in  prayer  whenever  he 
had  the  least  cessation  from  extreme  suffering. 

"Dec.  26. — Was  so  impatient  to  be  gone  that  I  could 
scarcely  persuade  him  to  wet  his  lips,  but  continued  calling 
his  Redeemer  to  pardon  and  release  him.  Afi  he  alwayi 
would  have  his  door  shut,  I  had  no  interruption.  Carlton 
kept  Anna  out  of  the  way;  and  every  promise  in  the  Scrip- 
tore  and  prayer  I  could  remember  I  continually  repeated 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  81 

to  kim,  which  seemed  to  be  his  only  relief.  When  1 
stopped  to  give  him  any  thing,  'Why  do  you  do  it?  what  do 
I  want?  I  want  to  be  in  heaven — pray,  pray  for  my  soul. 
He  said  he  felt  so  comfortable  an  assurance  that  his  Re- 
deemer would  receive  him  that  he  saw  his  dear  little  Re- 
becca smiling  before  him;  and  told  little  Anna,  'Oh,  if  youi 
father  could  take  you  with  him !'  And  at  midnight,  when 
the  cold  sweat  came  on,  he  would  reach  out  both  his  arms, 
and  «aid  repeatedly,  'You  promised  me  you  would  go;  come, 
come,  fly !'  At  four,  the  hard  struggle  ceased :  nature  sank 
into  a  settled  sob — '  My  dear  wife  and  little  ones/  and  '  My 
Christ  Jesus,  have  mercy  and  receive  me,'  was  all  I  could 
distinguish;  and  again  repeated,  'My  Christ  Jesus,'  until 
a  quarter  past  seven,  when  the  dear  soul  took  its  flight  to 
the  blessed  exchange  it  so  much  longed  for. 

"I  often  asked  him,  when  he  could  not  speak,  'You  feel, 
my  love,  that  you  are  going  to  your  Redeemer?'  and  he  mo- 
tioned, '  Yes,'  with  a  look  of  peace.  At  a  quarter  past  seven 
on  Tuewday  morning,  December  27,  his  soul  was  released — 
and  mine  from  a  struggle  next  to  death.  And  how  will  my 
dear  sister  understand,  except  you  could  conceive  the  scene 
of  suffering  my  poor  William  passed  through — that  I  took 
my  little  Anna  in  my  arms,  and  made  her  kneel  again  with 
me  by  the  dear  body,  and  thank  our  Heavenly  Father  for  re- 
lieving him  from  his  misery — for  the  joyful  assurance  that, 
through  our  blessed  Redeemer,  he  had  entered  into  life  eter- 
nal, and  implored  his  protecting  care  and  pity  for  us  who 
nave  yet  to  finish  our  course  ?  Now,  opening  the  door  to 
let  the  people  know  it  was  finished,  servants  and  landlady 
all  were  at  a  loss  to  know  what  should  be  done ;  and,  finding 
«very  one  afraid  of  catching  the  complaint,  as  we  should  b« 
of  the  yellow  fever,  I  took  two  women  who  had  washed  and 
sometimes  assisted  me,  and,  again  shutting  the  door,  with 
their  assistance  did  the  last  duties,  and  felt  I  had  done 


82  THE    LIFE    Of 

all — all  that  tenderest  love  and  duty  could  do.  My  head 
had  not  rested  for  a  week;  three  days  and  nights  the  fatigue 
had  been  incessant,  and  one  meal  in  twenty-four  hours; 
still  I  must  wash,  dress,  pack  up,  and  in  one  hour  be  in 
Mrs.  Filicchi's  carriage,  and  ride  fifteen  miles  to  Leghorn 
Carlton  and  our  old  Louis  stayed  to  watch;  and  my  William 
was  brought  in  the  afternoon,  and  deposited  in  the  houst 
appointed,  in  the  Protestant  burying-ground.  Oh !  oh !  oh : 
what  a  day! — close  his  eyes,  lay  him  out,  ride  a  journey,  be 
obliged  to  see  a  dozen  people  in  my  room  till  night,  and  at 
night  crowded  with  the  whole  sense  of  my  situation.  Oh, 
my  Father  and  my  God !  The  next  morning  at  eleven,  all 
the  English  and  Americans  in  Leghorn  met  at  the  grave- 
house,  and  all  was  done.  In  all  this,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
dwell  on  the  mercy  and  consoling  presence  of  my  dear  Lord, 
for  no  mortal  strength  could  support  what  I  experienced. 
My  William  often  asked  me  if  I  felt  assured  he  would  b« 
accepted  and  pardoned;  and  I  always  tried  to  convince  him 
that  where  the  soul  was  so  sincere  as  his,  and  submission  to 
God's  will  so  uniform  as  his  had  been  throughout  his  trial, 
it  became  sinful  to  doubt  one  moment  of  his  reception 
through  the  merits  of  his  Redeemer.  The  night  before  his 
death,  praying  earnestly  for  him  that  his  pardon  might  be 
sealed  in  heaven  and  his  transgressions  blotted  out,  after 
praying,  I  continued  on  my  knees,  laid  my  head  on  the  chair 
by  which  I  knelt,  and  insensibly  lost  myself.  I  saw  in  my 
slumber  a  little  angel,  with  a  pen  in  one  hand  and  a  sheet 
of  white  paper  in  the  other;  he  looked  at  me,  holding  out 
the  paper,  and  wrote  in  large  letters — '  JESUS.'  This,  though 
a  vision  of  sleep,  was  a  great  comfort.  He  was  very  much 
affected  when  I  told  him,  and  said,  a  few  hours  before  he 
died,  '  The  angel  wrote,  Jesus :  he  has  opened  the  door  of 
eternal  life  for  me,  and  will  cover  me  with  his  merits.'  I 
had  a  similar  dream  the  same  night.  The  heavens  appeared 


MBS.   £.    A.    SETON.  83 

*  very  bright  blue;  a  little  angel  at  some  distance  held  open 
a  division  in  the  sky.  A  large  black  bird,  like  an  eagle,  flew 
toward  me,  and  flapped  its  wings  round  and  made  every  thing 
dark.  The  angel  looked  as  if  it  held  up  the  division  wait- 
ing for  something  the  bird  came  for.  And  so,  alone  from 
every  friend  on  earth,  walking  the  'valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death/  we  had  sweet  comfort  even  in  our  dreams,  while  faith 
convinced  us  they  were  realities." 

Thus  terminated  for  Mrs.  Seton  one  of  the  severest  triais 
that  human  infirmity  is  destined  to  encounter — the  death 
of  her  husband  in  a  land  of  strangers,  all  her  relatives  and 
friends  separated  from  her  by  the  wide  ocean,  and  unable  to 
afford  that  solace  which  her  bereavement  so  naturally  called 
for.  But  her  own  relation  of  this  painful  event  is  quite 
sufficient  to  show  that  her  fortitude  was  equal  to  the  ordeal 
to  which  she  was  subjected,  and  that  she  exhibited  in  her 
affliction  a  strength  of  mind  and  a  moral  energy  as  rare  as 
they  are  worthy  of  admiration.  On  the  very  day  that  her 
husband  breathed  his  last,  when  she  was  on  the  way  from 
the  melancholy  spot  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Filicchi  in  Leg- 
horn, such  was  her  entire  resignation  to  the  dispensations 
of  Heaven,  that  "in  her  perpetual  look  upward  she  could 
enjoy  in  her  silence  of  peace  and  deadly  calmness  the  view 
of  the  beautiful  country  around." 

On  her  arrival  at  Leghorn,  she  was  received  in  the  Filic- 
chi family  with  every  mark  of  the  sincerest  sympathy  and 
the  most  unbounded  generosity;  "but,"  as  she  says,  "my 
poor,  high  heart  was  in  the  clouds,  soaring  after  my  Wil- 
liam's scul,  and  repeating,  'My  God,  you  are  my  God,  and 
BO  I  am  now  alone  in  the  world  with  you  and  my  little  ones; 
but  you  are  my  Father,  and  doubly  theirs.'"  The  same 
day  in  the  evening,  she  was  kindly  visited  by  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Hail,  who  officiated  at  the  interment  of  Mr.  Seton.  Hi* 
first  words  to  her  were,  "  As  the  tree  falls,  madam,  there  it 


84  THE    LIFE    Ot 

lies."  Among  those  who  called  upon  her,  she  makes  par- 
ticular mention  of  the  good  old  Capitano,  who  "came,"  sh« 
says,  "with  a  black  crape  on  the  hat  and  arm,  and  such  a 
look  of  sorrow  at  his  poor  Signora — all  his  kindness  in  th« 
lazaretto  was  present.  Dearest  Anna  melted  his  heart 
again,  and  he  ours." 

The  impression  which  Mrs.  Seton  made  upon  the  mindi 
of  those  who  had  attended  at  the  lazaretto  and  at  Pisa, 
where  her  husband  expired,  and  upon  all  indeed  who  formed 
her  acquaintance,  was  of  the  most  favorable  character.  We 
have  seen  already  how  cheerfully  the  officers  and  servants  at 
the  quarantine  ministered  to  the  wants  of  herself  and  her 
suffering  husband ;  but  subsequently,  when  the  vain  fear  of 
contagion  prevented  others  from  laying  out  the  corpse  of 
Mr.  Seton,  and  she  herself,  with  the  assistance  of  her  wash- 
woman, undertook  this  sad  duty,  the  people  around  gazed  at 
her  with  astonishment,  admiring  her  courage  and  fortitude, 
and  exclaiming,  with  more  of  good  feeling  than  judgment, 
"If  she  was  not  a  heretic  she  would  be  a  saint."  All, 
however,  according  to  their  circumstances,  performed  the 
part  of  friendship,  which  met  with  a  corresponding  grati- 
tude on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Seton. 

"  The  Filicchis,"  she  says  in  a  letter  to  her  sister-in-law, 
"  do  all  they  can  to  ease  my  situation,  and  seem,  indeed,  that 
they  cannot  do  enough.  Indeed,  from  the  day  we  left  home, 
we  have  met  with  nothing  but  kindness,  even  in  servants 
and  strangers."  A  few  days  after,  she  wrote  to  the  same 
friend  that  her  husband's  sufferings  and  death  had  interested 
K>  many  persons  in  Leghorn,  that  she  was  as  kindly  treated 
and  as  much  attended  to,  in  regard  to  her  health  and  the 
consolations  which  she  needed,  as  if  she  were  at  home.  "In- 
deed," she  adds,  "when  I  look  forward  to  my  unprovided 
situation,  as  it  relates  to  the  affairs  of  this  life,  I  must  often 
•mile  at  their  tenderness  and  precautions.  Anna  says, ' Oh, 


MRS.    I.    A     SETON.  8ft 

mamma,  how  many  friends  God  has  provided  for  us  in  this 
itrange  land !  for  they  are  our  friends  before  they  know 
us ;'  and  who  can  tell  how  great  a  comfort  he  provided  for 
me  when  he  gave  her  to  me?"  To  divert  her  mind  from  ita 
melancholy  musings,  and  afford  her  an  opportunity,  during 
her  brief  stay  in  Italy,  of  extending  her  acquaintance  with 
a  country  which  abounded  in  so  many  curiosities  of  nature 
and  of  art,  some  of  her  friends  induced  her  to  accompany 
them  to  Florence.  How  she  enjoyed  the  contemplation  of 
the  beautiful  scenery  around  her,  and  the  wonderful  produc- 
tions of  human  genius  in  that  city  of  elegance  and  taste, 
will  be  seen  from  the  following  description  of  her  visit  in 
her  own  words  :* 

"  Four  days  I  have  been  at  Florence,  lodged  in  the  famoui 
palace  of  Medici,  which  fronts  the  Arno  and  presents  a 
view  of  the  high  mountains  of  Morelli,  covered  with  ele- 
gant country-seats,  and  five  bridges  across  the  river,  which 
are  always  thronged  with  people  and  carriages.  On  Sun- 
day, January  8,  at  11  o'clock,  I  went  with  Mrs.  Amabiliaf 
to  the  chapel  La  Santissima  Anunziata.  Passing  through  a 
curtain,  my  eye  was  struck  with  hundreds  of  persons  kneel- 
ing ;  but  the  gloom  of  the  chapel,  which  is  lighted  only  by 
the  wax  tapers  on  the  altar,  and  a  small  window  at  the  top 
darkened  with  green  silk,  made  every  object  at  first  appear 
Tery  indistinct,  while  that  kind  of  soft  and  distant  music 
which  lifts  the  mind  to  a  foretaste  of  heavenly  pleasures 
called  up  in  an  instant  every  dear  and  tender  idea  of  my 
soul,  and,  forgetting  Mrs.  A.'s  company  and  all  the  surround- 
ing scene,  I  sank  on  my  knees  in  the  first  place  I  found 
vacant,  and  shed  a  torrent  of  tears  at  the  recollection  of  how 
Jong  I  had  been  a  stranger  in  the  house  of  my  God,  and  th« 

*  This  description  is  a  journal  which  she  prepared  for  the  gratification 
•f  a  beloved  relative  in  America, 
f  The  wife  of  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi,  of  Leghorn. 
8 


86  THE    LIFE    Of 

i 

accumulated  sorrow  that  had  separated  me  from  it.  I  need 
not  tell  you  that  I  said  our  dear  service  with  my  whole  soul, 
as  far  as  in  its  agitation  I  could  recollect.  When  the  organ 
ceased,  and  mass  was  over,  we  walked  around  the  chapel. 
The  elegance  of  the  ceiling  in  carved  gold,  altars  loaded  with 
gold  and  silver  and  other  precious  ornaments;  pictures  of 
erery  sacred  subject,  and  the  dome  a  continued  representa- 
tion of  different  parts  of  Scripture :  all  this  can  never  be 
conceived  by  description,  nor  my  delight  in  seeing  old  men 
and  old  women,  young  women,  and  all  sorts  of  people,  kneel- 
ing promiscuously  about  the  altar,  as  inattentive  to  us  and 
other  passers-by  as  if  we  were  not  there.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  church,  another  chapel  presented  a  similar  scene,  but 
as  another  mass  had  begun,  I  passed  on  tip-toe  behind  Mrs. 
Filicchi,  unable  to  look  around,  though  every  one  is  so  in- 
tent upon  their  prayers  and  rosary  that  it  is  very  immaterial 
what  a  stranger  does. 

"  While  Mrs.  Filicchi  went  to  make  visits,  I  visited  the 
church  of  St.  Firenze,  and  saw  two  more  elegant  chapels, 
but  in  a  more  simple  style,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  treading 
the  sacred  place  with  two  of  its  inhabitants,  as  a  convent  is 
also  part  of  the  building.  I  saw  a  young  priest  unlock  his 
little  chapel,  with  that  composed  and  equal  eye  as  if  his 
soul  had  entered  before  him.  My  heart  would  willingly 
have  followed  after ;  here  was  to  be  the  best  music,  but  at 
night,  and  no  female  could  be  admitted. 

"  I  rode  to  the  queen's  gardens,  where  I  saw  elms  and 
firs,  with  hedges  of  yew  and  ivy  in  beautiful  verdure,  and 
cultivated  fields,  appearing  like  our  advanced  spring.  In- 
deed, it  was  not  possible  to  look  without  thinking,  or  to 
think  without  my  soul's  crying  out  for  those  it  loves  in  hea- 
ven or  on  earth.  Therefore  I  was  forced  to  close  my  eyes 
and  lean  against  the  carnage  as  if  asleep ;  which  the  mild 
»o<itness  of  the  air  and  warmth  of  the  sun  seemed  easily  to 


MRS.    E.   A.    SETON.  87 

excuse.  We  stopped  at  the  queen's  country  palace,  and 
passed  through  such  innumerable  suites  of  apartments,  sc 
elegant  that  each  was  a  new  object  of  wonder ;  but  Solo- 
mon's vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit  was  all  the  while  in  my 
head.  Saw  the  queen  twice ;  but,  as  little  Anna  says,  she 
Would  not  be  known  from  any  other  woman  but  by  the  num- 
ber of  her  attendants.* 

"Sunday  evening. — Mr.  T C and  Mrs.  F.  went 

to  the  opera.  I  had  a  good  fire  in  my  room,  locked  the 
door,  and,  with  my  dear  Anna,  books  and  pens,  passed  a 
happy  evening  for  this  world.  When  we  said  our  dear  ser- 
vice together,  she  burst  into  tears,  as  she  has  always  done 
since  we  say  it  alone.  She  says,  '  My  dear  papa  is  praising 
God  in  heaven,  and  I  ought  not  to  cry  for  him ;  but  I  b« 
lieve  it  is  human  nature  j  is  it  not,  mamma  ?'  I  think  of 
what  David  said :  '  I  shall  go  to  him,  he  cannot  return  te 
me.'  Her  conversation  is  dearer  to  me,  and  preferable  to 
any  I  can  have  this  side  of  the  grave.  It  is  one  of  the 
greatest  mercies  that  I  was  permitted  to  bring  her,  for  many 
reasons. 

"Monday  morning,  Jan.  9. — Visited  the  gallery;  but 
as  my  curiosity  had  been  greatly  excited  by  my  Seton's  de- 
scriptions, and  the  French  having  made  great  depredations, 
it  did  not  equal  my  expectations.  The  chef-d'oeuvre  of  D., 
a  head  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  life,  the  Redeemer 
about  twelve  years  of  age — a  Madonna — and  the  BapVldt 
very  young,  were  those  that  attracted  me  most.  The  st«>«ies 
in  bronze  were  beautiful ;  but  I,  being  only  an  Amer  aan, 
could  not  look  very  straight  at  them.  Innumerable  curi- 
osities and  antiquities  surrounded  us  on  all  sides  The 


•  By  the  treaty  of  Luneville,  in  1801,  Tuscany  became  8  Vingdom 
•nder  the  Prince  of  Parina,  who  was  styled  King  of  Etruria.  Upon  hii 
death,  in  1803,  bia  widow,  Maria  Louisa,  assumed  the  gore^inont,  ai 
ijueen  -regent  during  the  minority  of  her  son. 


88  THE     LIFE     07 

sacred  representations  were  sufficient  to  engage  and  interest 
all  my  attention,  and,  as  the  French  had  not  been  covetoui 
of  those,  I  had  the  advantage  of  seeing  them ;  but  felt  th« 
Toid  of  him  who  would  have  pointed  out  the  beauties  of 
everj  object  too  much  to  enjoy  any  perfectly — 'alone  but 
half  enjoyed.'  My  God !  Went  to  the  church  of  San  Lo- 
renzo, where  a  sensation  of  delight  struck  me  so  forcibly 
that  I  approached  the  great  altar,  formed  all  of  the  mosl 
precious  stones  and  marbles  that  could  be  produced.  » *  Mj 
soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord,  my  spirit  rejoices  in  God  my 
*Saviour/  came  into  my  mind  with  a  fervor  which  absorbed 
every  other  feeling.  It  recalled  the  ideas  of  the  offerings 
of  David  and  Solomon  to  the  Lord,  when  the  rich  and 
valuable  productions  of  nature  and  art  were  devoted  to  his 
holy  temple  and  sanctified  to  his  service.  Annexed  to  this 
is  the  chapel  of  marble,  the  beauty  and  work  and  richness 
of  which  might  be  supposed  the  production  of  more  than 
mortal  means,  if  its  unfinished  dome  did  not  discover  ite 
imperfections.  It  is  the  tomb  of  the  Medici  princes. 
Monuments  of  granite,  golden  crowns  set  with  precious 
stones,  the  polish  of  the  whole  which  reflects  the  different 
monuments  as  a  mirror,  and  the  awful  black  Cosmos  who 
are  represented  on  the  top  of  the  monuments  as  large  as 
life,  with  their  crowns  and  sceptres,  made  my  poor  weak 
head  turn,  and  I  believe,  if  it  had  been  possible  that  1 
should  have  been  alone  there,  it  would  never  have  turned 
back  agai7!.  I  passed  my  evening  again  in  my  room  with 
dear  Anna.  At  half-past  nine,  Mr.  C.  took  the  trouble  to 
oome  for  me,  to  attend  the  opera,  that  I  might  hear  some 
wonderful  trio,  in  which  the  celebrated  David  was  to  show 
all  his  excellence;  and  as  it  would  be  over  at  ten,  and  Mrs. 
F.  so  much  desired  it,  I  went  with  hat  and  veil,  instead 
of  the  masks  they  all  wore.  The  opera-house  is  so  dark 
that  you  can  hardly  distinguish  the  person  next  to  you 


MBS.   E.   A.   8ETON.  6 

Anna  thought  the  singers  would  go  mad,  and  I  could  not 
find  the  least  gratification  in  their  quavers;  felt  the  full 
conviction  that  those  who  could  find  pleasure  in  such  a 
scene  must  be  unacquainted  with  real  pleasure.  My  Wil- 
liam had  so  much  desired  that  I  should  hear  this  David, 
that  I  tried  to  be  pleased ;  but  not  one  note  touched  my 
heart.  At  ten,  I  was  relieved  from  the  most  unwilling 
exertion  I  had  yet  made,  and  returned  wi-'h  redoubled  de- 
light to  my  pleasures,  which  were  as  the  joys  of  heaven  in 
comparison. 

"Tuesday,  Jan.  10. — I  saw  the  church  Santa  Maria, 
and  the  queen's  palace  in  which  she  resides.  Every  beauty 
that  gold,  damask  of  every  variety,  and  India  tapestry,  can 
devise,  embellished  with  fine  statues,  ceilings  embossed  with 
gold,  elegant  pictures,  carpets,  and  floors  inlaid  with  the 
most  costly  satin-woods,  in  beautiful  patterns,  tables  inlaid 
with  most  precious  orders  of  stone, — all  combined  to  make 
the  palace  of  Pitti  a  pattern  of  elegance  and  taste.  So  say 

khe  connoisseurs.     For  me,  I  am  no  judge,  as  0 says. 

A  picture  of  the  descent  from  the  cross,  nearly  as  large  as 
life,  engaged  my  whole  soul;  Mary  at  the  foot  of  it  ex- 
pressed well  that  the  iron  had  entered  into  hers,  and  the 
shades  of  death  over  her  agonized  countenance  so  strongly 
contrasted  the  heavenly  peace  of  the  dear  Redeemer  that 
it  seemed  as  if  his  pains  had  fallen  on  her.  How  hard  it 
was  to  leave  that  picture,  and  how  often,  in  the  few  hours' 
interval  since  I  have  seen  it,  I  shut  my  eyes,  and  recall  it 
in  imagination  !  Abraham  and  Isaac  are  also  represented 
in  so  expressive  a  manner  that  you  feel  the  whole  con- 
vulsion of  that  patriarch's  breast ;  and  well  for  me  that,  in 
viewing  those  two  pictures,  my  companions  were  engaged 
with  other  subjects — the  dropping  tears  could  be  hid,  but 
the  staking  of  the  whole  frame  not  so  easily.  Dear  sister, 
8* 


K  THE    LIFE    0V 

you  Lad  your  sigh,  in  reflecting  how  truly  you  would  enjoj 
them. 

"  Wednesday,  Jan.  11. — This  morning  I  have  indeed 
enjoyed,  in  the  anatomical  museum  and  cabinet  of  natural 
history.  The  work  of  the  almighty  hand  in  every  object — 
the  anatomica.  rooms  displaying  nature  in  every  division  of 
the  human  frame — is  almost  too  much  for  human  nature  to 
support.  Mine  shrank  from  it;  but,  recalling  the  idea  of 
my  God  in  all  I  saw,  though  so  humiliating  and  painful  to 
the  view,  still  it  was  congenial  to  every  feeling  of  my  soul ; 
and  as  my  companion  T.  has  an  intelligent  mind  and  excel- 
lent heart,  which  for  the  time  entered  into  my  feelings,  I 
passed  through  most  of  the  rooms  uninterrupted  in  the 
sacred  reflections  they  inspired.  The  pleasures  to  be  en- 
joyed in  the  cabinet  of  natural  history  would  require  the 
attention  of  at  least  a  month.  In  the  short  time  I  was 
allowed,  I  enjoyed  more  than  I  could  have  obtained  in  years 
out  of  my  own  cabinet  of  precious  things.  If  I  was  allowed 
to  choose  an  enjoyment  from  the  whole  theatre  of  human 
nature,  it  would  be  to  go  over  those  two  hours  again,  with 
iny  dear  brother  Post  as  my  companion.  I  visited  the  gar- 
dens called  Boboli,  belonging  to  the  queen's  residence ;  was 
well  exercised  in  running  up  flights  of  steps  in  the  style  of 
hanging  gardens,  and  sufliciently  repaid  by  the  view  of  the 
environs  of  Florence  and  the  many  varieties  of  beautiful 
evergreens  with  which  this  country  abounds,  and  which 
prevent  the  possibility  of  reflecting  that  it  is  winter,  ex- 
cept the  cold  and  damp  of  their  buildings  remind  you  of  it. 
If  the  Tuscans  are  to  be  judged  by  their  taste,  they  arc  a 
happy  people,  for  every  thing  without  is  very  shabby,  and 
within  elegant.  The  exterior  of  their  best  buildings  is,  to 
appearance,  in  a  state  of  ruin.  I  saw  also  the  Academy  of 
Sculpture  and  the  Botanical  Garden." 

From  these  memoranda  of  Mrs.  Seton's  visit  to  Florence, 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  91 

it  if  plain  that  she  found  in  the  curiosities  of  that  city  not 
only  a  source  of  rational  enjoyment,  but  a  subject  of  reli- 
gious meditation.  The  sacred  places  inspired  her  with 
reverence,  and  raised  her  heart  to  God ;  the  gorgeous  decora- 
tions  of  his  temples  reminded  her  of  that  infinite  grandeur 
and  excellence  to  which  every  thing  should  be  consecrated ; 
the  scriptural  paintings  carried  her  soul  back  with  the  live- 
liest emotions  to  the  very  scenes  which  they  commemo- 
rated ;  even  the  productions  of  a  purely  secular  art  elevated 
her  thoughts  above  the  world.  With  a  mind  so  intelligent, 
and  so  directed  to  spiritual  reflection,  she  was  prepared  to 
receive  the  happiest  impressions  from  the  Catholic  associa- 
tions she  had  formed  in  Italy. 


BOOK  m. 

Mrs.  Seton's  inquiry  on  the  subject  of  religion — Efforts  to  enlighten  her 
— Her  sentiments  and  impressions — Departure  for  America — Disap- 
pointment and  sickness — Her  admiration  of  Catholicity — Visit  to  her 
husband's  grave — The  Messrs.  Filicchi — Mrs.  Seton  leaves  Italy — Sen- 
timents during  the  voyage— Arrival  in  New  York — Death  of  Miss  Re- 
becca Seton — Mrs.  Seton  opposed  in  her  religious  views — The  main 
point  insisted  on  by  Mr.  Filicchi — Combatted  by  Dr.  Hobart — His  abili- 
ties and  standing—Arguments — Situation  of  Mrs.  Seton's  mind — 
Danger  of  her  faith — Efforts  of  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi — Consults  Bishop 
Carroll — Mrs.  Seton's  interior  struggles — Counsel  and  instruction  of 
Mr.  P.  Filicchi — Mrs.  Seton's  trials  and  sentiments — Her  resolution- 
Letter  of  Bishop  Carroll — The  final  determination — Abjuration  of  Pro- 
teatanti ant —Fervor  in  approaching  the  sacraments. 

IT  is  but  natural  to  infer  from  the  excellent  qualities  of 
Mrs.  Seton,  and  particularly  from  her  religious  spirit  and 
sincerity  of  heart,  that  she  would  become  an  object  of  cha- 
ritable zeal  among  her  new  friends,  and  would  herself  be 


92  THE    LIFE    Of 

inclined  to  seek  information  respecting  a  church  the  obserr 
an.-.es  of  which  were  now  so  prominently  brought  to  her  at- 
tention.  The  Catholic  family  whose  generous  hospitality  sh« 
«njoyed  did  not  hesitate  to  avail  themselves  of  every  favor- 
able opportunity  to  enlighten  her  on  so  important  a  subject. 
To  some  question  which  she  proposed  to  Mr.  Filicchi,  re- 
specting the  difference  of  religions,  he  replied  that  there  wag 
but  one  true  religion,  and  without  a  right  faith  no  one  could 
be  acceptable  to  God.  "Oh  my,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Seton, 
"if  there  is  but  one  faith,  and  nobody  pleases  God  without 
it,  where  are  all  the  good  people  who  die  out  of  it  ?"  "  I 
don't  know,"  answered  her  friend  ;  "  that  depends  on  what 
light  of  faith  they  had  received ;  but  I  know  where  people 
go,  who  can  know  the  right  faith,  if  they  pray  and  inquire 
for  it,  and  yet  do  neither."  "  Much  as  to  say,  sir,  you  want 
me  to  pray  and  inquire,  and  be  of  your  faith?"  said  Mrs. 
Seton,  laughing.  " Pray  and  inquire,"  he  added;  "that  ia 
all  I  ask  of  you."  While  she  was  at  Florence,  Mr.  Anthony 
Filicchi  urged  upon  her  the  duty  of  investigating  the  ques- 
tion in  the  following  words : — 

"Your  dear  William  was  the  early  friend  of  my  youth. 
You  are  now  come  in  his  room.  Your  soul  is  even  dearer 
to  Antonio,  and  will  be  so  forever  May  the  good,  Almighty 
God  enlighten  your  mind  and  strengthen  your  heart,  to  see 
and  follow  in  religion  the  surest,  true  way  to  the  eternal 
blessings.  I  shall  call  for  you.  I  must  meet  you  in  para- 
dise, if  it  is  decreed  that  the  vast  plains  of  the  ocean  shall 
soon  be  betwixt  us.  Don't  discontinue,  in  the  meanwhile, 
to  pray;  to  knock  at  the  door."  In  order  the  more  effectually 
to  remove  the  erroneous  views  of  Christianity  which  she  had 
derived  from  education,  her  friends  placed  in  her  hands 
roitable  books  for  her  instruction,  and  made  her  acquainted 
with  a  learned  Jesuit  of  Leghorn,  who  took  a  lively  interest 
La  her  welfare.  In  a  letter  to  one  of  her  relatives,  she  thui 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  93 

amiably  alludes  to  this  circumstance : — "  I  am  hard  pushed 
by  these  charitable  Komans,  who  wish  that  so  much  good- 
ness should  be  improved  by  a  conversion,  which  to  effect 
they  have  even  taken  the  trouble  to  bring  me  their  best-in- 
formed priest,  Abbe"  Plunkett,  who  is  an  Irishman;  but  they 
find  me  so  willing  to  hear  their  enlightened  conversation, 
that  consequently,  as  learned  people  like  to  hear  themselves 
best,  I  have  but  little  to  say,  and  as  yet  keep  friends  with 
all,  as  the  best  comment  on  my  profession."  At  first,  Mrs. 
Seton  little  imagined  that  there  was  a  more  secure  way  to 
heaven  than  that  which  she  had  been  taught  to  follow;  but 
to  a  person  of  her  intelligence  and  uprightness  the  crude- 
ness  of  Protestantism  could  not  but  suggest  its  character  of 
uncertainty,  and  she  therefore  prayed  to  God  that,  if  she  had 
not  the  happiness  of  being  in  the  way  that  was  pleasing  to 
him,  he  would  graciously  lead  her  into  the  right  path.  She 
daily  implored  the  divine  light  and  assistance,  repeating,  in 
the  words  of  Pope : — 

*"  If  I  am  right,  thy  grace  impart 

Still  in  the  right  to  stay; 
If  I  am  wrong,  oh,  teach  my  heart 
To  find  the  better  way !" 

The  grace  of  God  was  not  wanting.  It  gradually  un- 
folded to  her  view  the  superior  claims  of  Catholicity,  the 
truth  and  consolations  of  its  faith.  In  entering  a  Catholic 
onurch,  she  felt  an  impression  of  awe  that  she  had  never  ex- 
perienced in  a  Protestant  place  of  worship;  and  the  follow- 
ing incident  will  show  how  her  mind,  under  the  influence  of 
a  heavenly  light,  began  to  penetrate  through  the  mists  which 
had  clouded  her  religious  views.  Having  accompanied  her 
friends  to  the  church  of  Montanero,  in  a  lovely  part  of  the 
country  where  Mr.  Filicchi  had  been  once  concealed  by  the 
inmates  of  the  convent  during  some  political  revolution, 


94  THJi    LIFE    Of 

they  wore  invited  to  hear  mass  in  their  chapel.  During  thi 
service,  at  the  very  moment  of  the  elevation  of  the  sacred 
Host,  a  young  Englishman  who  was  present  observed  to  Mrs. 
Seton : — u  This  is  what  they  call  their  real  presence."  %>  My 
very  heart,"  she  says,  "  trembled  with  pain  and  sorrow  for 
his  unfeeling  interruption  of  their  sacred  adoration;  for  all 
around  was  dead  silence,  and  many  were  prostrated.  Involun- 
tarily I  bent  from  him  to  the  pavement,  and  thought  secretly 
on  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  with  starting  tears,  '  they  discern 
not  the  Lord's  body;'  and  the  next  thought  was,  how  should 
they  eat  and  drink  their  own  damnation  for  not  discerning 
it,  if  indeed  it  is  not  there?  »And  how  did  he  breathe  my 
soul  into  me?  and  how,  and  how  a  hundred  other  things 
I  know  nothing  about?  I  am  a  mother;  so  the  mother's 
thought  came  also.  How  was  my  God  a  little  babe  in  the 
first  stage  of  his  mortal  existence  in  Mary  ?  But  I  lost  these 
thoughts  in  my  babes  at  home,  which  I  daily  longed  for 
more  and  more." 

By  the  dispensation  of  Providence,  the  ardent  desire  of 
Mrs.  Seton  to  be  reunited  to  her  family  in  America  was  not 
to  be  realized  as  soon  as  she  expected.  On  the  3d  of  Feb- 
ruary, she  and  her  daughter  embarked  for  their  native  coun- 
try in  the  same  vessel  which  had  conveyed  them  to  Italy. 
"We  had  parted,"  she  says,  "  with  our  most  kind  friends, 
loaded  with  their  blessings  and  presents;  I  with  gold  and 
passports  and  recommendations,  for  fear  of  Algerines  or 
necessity  to  put  in  any  of  the  Mediterranean  ports;  but  all 
that  in  vain.  A  driving  storm  at  night  struck  the  /essel 
against  another,  and  in  the  morning,  instead  of  hoisting  sail 
for  America,  we  were  obliged  to  return  on  shore;  most 
kindly,  indeed,  welcomed  by  the  Filicchis,  but  heart  down 
enough  at  the  disappointment;  and  imagine  the  rest,  when 
our  sweetest  Anna,  unable  to  hide  her  suffering,  was  found 
in  high  fever,  covered  with  eruptions,  which  the  doctor  pro> 


MRS.    £.    A.    SETON.  95 

mranced  scarlet."  Notwithstanding  the  illness  of  her  child, 
Mrs.  Seton  would  have  ventured  upon  the  voyage  with  the 
first  fair  wind,  and  trusted  the  issue  to  God;  but  as  the  pros- 
pects of  the  vessel  would  have  been  injured  by  sickness 
among  the  passengers,  she  was  obliged  to  remain  at  Leghorn. 
On  returning  from  the  vessel,  she  and  her  daughter  had  been 
conducted  by  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi  to  his  residence,  where 
they  were  welcomed  with  unbounded  kindness  and  hospi- 
tality, and  invited  to  remain  until  their  departure  for  Ame- 
rica. After  the  recovery  of  Miss  Anna  Seton  from  her  ill- 
ness, which  lasted  three  weeks,  her  mother  was  seized  with 
the  same  complaint,  which  confined  her  for  the  same  period 
to  her  room.  During  all  this  time,  the  most  devoted  atten- 
tions were  bestowed  upon  them  by  their  Italian  friends,  who 
displayed,  in  their  regard,  a  brilliant  example  of  Christian 
charity.  "  Oh,  the  patience,"  exclaims  Mrs.  Seton,  "  and 
more  than  human  kindness  of  these  dear  Filicchis  for  us ! 
Tou  would  say  it  was  our  Saviour  himself  they  received  in 
his  poor  and  sick  strangers."  Thus  detained  in  the  midst 
of  a  family  equally  pious  and  enlightened,  she  possessed 
every  facility  of  becoming  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
doctrines  and  consolations  of  the  Catholic  faith,  and  her  let- 
ters show  that  she  did  not  neglect  this  valuable  opportunity 
"  How  happy  would  we  be,"  she  writes  to  a  friend,  "  if  we 
believed  what  these  dear  souls  believe — that  they  possess 
Gk»i  in  the  sacrament,  and  that  he  remains  in  their  churches, 
and  is  carried  to  them  when  they  are  sick !  Oh,  my !  when 
they  carry  the  blessed  sacrament  under  my  window,  while  I 
feel  the  full  loneliness  and  sadness  of  my  case,  I  cannot  stop 
the  tears  at  the  thought.  My  God !  how  happy  I  would  be, 
aven  so  far  away  from  all  so  dear,  if  I  could  find  you  in  the 
church  as  they  do,  (for  there  is  a  chapel  in  the  very  house 
of  Mr.  Filicchi,)  how  many  things  I  would  say  to  you  of  the 
lorrows  of  my  heart  and  the  sins  of  my  life !  Th<»  .ther  day, 


96  THE    LIVE    0V 

in  a  moment  of  excessive  distress,  I  fell  on  my  knees,  with- 
out thinking,  when  the  blessed  sacrament  passed  by,  and 
cried  in  an  agony  to  God  to  bless  me  if  he  was  there;  that 
my  whole  soul  desired  only  him.  A  little  prayer-book  of 
Mrs.  Filicchi's  was  on  the  table,  and  I  opened  a  little  prayer 
of  St.  Bernard  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  begging  her  to  be  OTU 
mother;  and  I  said  it  to  her,  with  such  a  certainty  that  God 
*would  refuse  nothing  to  his  mother,  and  that  she  could  not 
help  loving  and  pitying  the  poor  souls  he  died  for,  that  I  felt 
really  I  had  a  mother;  which  you  know  my  foolish  heart  so 
often  lamented  to  have  lost  in  early  days.  From  the  first 
remembrance  of  infancy,  I  have  always  looked,  in  all  the 
plays  of  childhood  and  wildness  of  youth,  to  the  clouds  foi 
my  mother;  and  at  that  moment  it  seemed  as  if  I  had  fjund 
more  than  her,  even  in  tenderness  and  pity  of  a  mother.  So 
I  cried  myself  to  sleep  on  her  heart."  On  another  occasion 
she  writes  to  the  same  relative,  exhibiting  the  progress  of 
her  mind  in  the  knowledge  of  religious  truth : — "  This  even- 
ing, standing  by  the  window,  the  moon  shining  full  on  Fi- 
licchi's countenance,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  showed 
me  how  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross.  Dearest  Rebecca,  I 
was  cold  with  the  awful  impression  my  first  making  it  gave 
me.  The  sign  of  the  cross  of  Christ  on  me!  Deepest 
thoughts  came  with  it  of  I  know  not  what  earnest  desires  to 
be  closely  united  with  him  who  died  on  it — of  that  last  day 
when  he  is  to  bear  it  in  triumph;  and,  did  you  notice,  my 
dear  one,  the  letter  T,  with  which  the  angel  is  to  mark  us  on 
the  forehead,  is  a  cross.  All  the  Catholic  religion  is  fall  of 
those  meanings,  which  interest  me  so.  fWhy,  Rebecca,  th«y 
believe  all  we  do  and  suffer,  if  we  offer  it  for  our  sins,  servef 
to  expiate  them.  You  may  remember,  when  I  asked  Mr 
Hobart  what  was  meant  by  fasting,  in  our  prayer-book, — at 
I  found  myself  on  Ash- Wednesday  morning  saying  so  fool 
ishly  to  Go  i,  I  turn  to  you  in  fasting,  weeping,  and  mourn 


MRS.    £.    A.    8ETCN.  07 

ing/  and  I  had  come  to  church  with  a  hearty  breakfast  of 
buckwheat-cakes  and  coffee,  and  full  of  life  and  spirits,  with 
little  thought  of  my  sins, — you  may  remember  what  he  said 
about  its  being  old  customs,  &c.  Well,  the  dear  Mrs.  Fi- 
Jicchi,  who  I  am  with,  never  eats,  this  season  of  Lent,  till 
after  the  clock  strikes  three.  Then  the  family  assemble,  and 
ehe  says,  she  offers  her  weakness  and  pain  of  fasting  for  her 
gins,  united  with  her  Saviour's  sufferings.  I  like  that  very 
much ;  but,  what  I  like  better,  dearest  Rebecca, — only  think 
what  a  comfort, — they  go  to  mass  here  every  morning.  Ah ! 
how  often  you  and  I  used  to  give  the  sigh,  and  you  would 
press  your  arm  in  mine,  of  a  Sunday  evening,  and  say,  '  No 
more  until  next  Sunday/  as  we  turned  from  the  church  door 
which  closed  on  us,  (unless  a  prayer  day  was  given  out  in 
the  week.)  Well,  here  they  go  to  church  at  four  every 
morning,  if  they  please.  And  you  know  how  we  were 
laughed  at  for  running  from  one  church  to  another,  sacra- 
ment Sundays,  that  we  might  receive  as  often  as  we  could; 
well,  here  people  that  love  God  and  lead  a  good,  regular 
life,  can  go  (though  many  do  not  do  it — yet  they  can  go) 
every  day.  *0h,  my !  I  don't  know  how  anybody  can  have 
any  trouble  in  this  world  who  believes  all  these  dear  soula 
believe.  If  /  don't  believe  it,  it  shall  not  be  for  want  of 
praying.  Why,  they  must  be  as  happy  as  angels,  almost." 
Such  was  the  lofty  and  just  appreciation  which  Mrs.  Seton 
formed  of  Catholic  truth.  In  her  new  acquaintances  at  Leg- 
horn she  found  not  only  the  most  generous  friends,  who  did 
all  that  the  most  tender  affection  could  devise  to  render  her 
situation  agreeable,  but  most  intelligent  and  edifying  mem- 
bers of  the  Church,  whose  conversation  and  example  inspired 
her  with  the  highest  admiration  for  its  faith  and  observances. 
In  their  company  she  would  visit  the  sacred  places,  where 
she  united  with  devotion  in  the  different  ceremonies  of  the 
Ctureh,  and  poured  forth  her  soul  in  fervent  prayer.  The 
9  % 


98  THE    LIFE    Of 

grace  vouchsafed  to  her  by  the  Spirit  of  truth  would  have 
led  her  at  once  to  a  formal  retractation  of  Protestantism,  had 
not  her  immediate  departure  from  Italy  prevented  her  from 
taking  this  step.  In  these  sentiments  she  was  about  to  em- 
bark for  her  native  land.  She  could  not,  however,  bid  adieu 
to  the  country  where  the  remains  of  her  husband  reposed 
without  having  paid  a  last  tribute  of  affection  to  his  memory. 
On  the  other  hand,  her  heart  expanded  with  joy  at  the  pros- 
pect of  being  soon  reunited  to  her  family  across  the  Atlan- 
tic. She  thus  expresses  her  feelings  on  this  subject  in  a  let- 
ter to  her  sister-in-law : — "  Once  more  shall  I  hold  my  dear 
ones  in  my  arms !  Heavenly  Father !  what  an  hour  will  that 
be,  my  dear,  fatherless  children — fatherless  to  the  world,  but 
rich  in  God,  their  Father,  for  he  will  never  leave  us  or  for- 
sake us.  I  have  been  to  my  dear  Seton's  grave,  and  wept 
plentifully  over  it,  with  the  unrestrained  affection  which  the 
last  sufferings  of  his  life,  added  to  remembrance  of  former 
years,  had  made  almost  more  than  human.  When  you  read 
my  daily  memorandums  since  I  left  home,  you  will  feel  what 
my  love  has  been,  and  acknowledge  that  God  alone  could 
""support  it  by  his  assistance  through  such  proofs  as  have  been 
required  of  it."  As  the  time  of  her  departure  for  home 
drew  near,  the  more  lively  was  the  joy  she  experienced. 
The  following  sentiments  were  written  by  her  a  few  days 

before  she  left  Italy : — "  Oh !  joy,  joy !  Capt.  B will  take 

us  to  America:  and  only  think  of  Mr.  Filicchi's  goodness. 
As  this  captain  is  a  very  young  man  and  a  stranger,  and 
many  things  of  war  or  danger  might  happen  on  the  voyage, 
Mr.  Filicchi  will  make  it  with  us.  Anna  is  wild  with  joy; 
yet  often  she  whispers  me: — ' Ma,  are  there  no  Catholics  in 
America?  Ma,  wont  we  go  to  the  Catholic  church  when 
we  go  home  ?'  Sweet  darling,  she  is  now  out,  visiting  some 
of  the  blessed  places  with  Mr.  Filicchi's  children  and  theii 
governess.  Would  you  believe,  whenever  we  go  to  walk. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  99 

we  go  first  in  some  church  or  convent-chapel  as  we  pass, 
which  we  always  foresee  by  a  large  cross  before  it,  and  say 
some  little  prayers  before  we  go  farther.  Men  do  it  as  well 
as  women.  You  know  with  us  a  man  would  be  ashamed  to 
be  seen  kneeling,  especially  of  a  week-day.  Oh,  my !  but  I 
sliall  be  with  you  again :  two  days  more  and  we  start  for 
home !  This  mild  heavenly  evening  puts  me  in  mind  when 
BO  often  you  and  I  stood,  or  rather  leaned  on  each  other, 
looking  at  the  setting  sun ;  sometimes  silent  tears  and  sighs 
for  that  home  where  sorrow  cannot  come.  Alas  !  how  may 
I  perhaps  find  mine  ? — sorrow  plenty.  I  was  speaking  of  it 
the  other  evening  to  Filicchi,  and  he  said,  in  his  dry  English, 
1 '  My  little  sister,  God  the  Almighty  is  laughing  at  you.  He 
takes  care  of  little  birds  and  makes  the  lilies  grow,  and  you 
fear  he  will  not  take  care  of  you.  I  tell  you  he  will  take 
care  of  you.'  So  I  hope,  dearest  Rebecca ;  you  know  that 
we  used  to  envy  them  that  were  poor,  because  they  had  no- 
thing to  do  with  the  world." 

To  crown  all  his  acts  of  kindness  to  Mrs.  Seton,  and 
through  regard  for  her  husband,  whom  he  had  numbered 
among  his  cherished  friends,  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi  resolved 
to  accompany  her  to  the  United  States.  A  desire  to  see  the 
country,  and  to  attend  personally  to  certain  matters  of  busi- 
ness, had  long  made  a  visit  to  the  New  "World  an  object  of 
interest  to  him ;  but  he  was  decided  to  undertake  the  voyage 
by  the  opportunity  now  presented  of  becoming  a  protector 
to  Mrs.  Seton.  "We  will  here  remark  that  the  Messrs.  Filic- 
chi, of  Leghorn,  were  gentlemen  of  the  highest  standing  in 
mercantile  life,  accomplished  members  of  society,  and  orna- 
ments of  the  religion  they  professed;  and  they  deserve  honor- 
able mention  in  the  biography  of  Mrs.  Seton,  not  only  for 
the  generous  friendship  which  they  extended  to  her  and  her 
husband,  but  also  on  account  of  the  important  part  which 
they  bore  in  her  conversion.  They  were  men  of  noble  im- 


100  THE    LIFE    OF 

pulses  and  cultivated  minds ;  and,  although  actively  and  ex- 
tensively  engaged  in  commercial  pursuits,  were  not  less  the 
practical  advocates  of  religion.  The  elder  brother  was  re- 
markable for  his  round  judgment  and  extensive  knowledge, 
and  had  enjoyed  the  especial  confidence  of  the  Grand  Duke 
of  Tuscany,  who  consulted  him  on  all  questions  of  commerce. 
Christians  in  thr  full  sense  of  the  word,  they  felt  a  lively  in- 
terest in  the  spiritual  enlightenment  of  Mrs.  Seton,  who  had 
become  an  object  of  their  care,  while  they  possessed  the 
ability  to  guide  her  in  the  investigation  of  religious  truth, 
and  to  remove  much  of  the  difficulty  that  was  thrown  in  the 
way  of  her  conversion.  To  aid  her  in  this  important  work, 
Mr.  Philip  Filicchi  had  furnished  her  with  books,  and  also 
with  a  manuscript  from  his  own  pen,  containing  a  summary 
of  Catholic  faith  and  a  brief  exposition  of  the  grounds  on 
which  it  rests.  This  document,  to  which  we  shall  refer 
more  particularly  in  the  seqael,  may  compare,  in  point  of 
method  and  solidity,  with  the  writings  of  our  eminent  con- 
troversialists, and  reflects  the  highest  honor  upon  his  talents, 
learning,  and  zeal  for  religion. 

Mrs.  Seton  having  left  us,  in  the  form  of  a  journal,  the 
particulars  of  her  departure  from  Leghorn,  we  will  give  the 
relation  of  those  incidents  in  her  own  words : — 

"  The  8th  of  April,  at  half  past  four  in  the  morning,  my 
dear  brother  came  to  my  room  to  awaken  my  soul  to  all  its 
dearest  hopes  and  anticipations.  The  heaven  was  bright 
with  stars,  the  wind  fair,  and  the  Flamingo's  signal  expected 
to  call  us  on  board ;  meanwhile  the  telling  of  the  bell  called 
OB  to  mass,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  prostrate  in  the 
presence  of  God.  Oh,  my  soul,  how  solemn  was  that  offer* 
ing !  for  a  blessing  on  our  voyage — for  my  dear  ones,  my 
sisters,  and  all  so  dear  to  me — and,  more  than  all,  for  the 
souls  of  my  dear  husband  and  father — earnestly  our  desires 
ascended  with  the  blessed  sacrifice,  that  they  might  find 


MRS.   £.    A.    BETON.  101 

acceptance  through  Him  who  gave  himself  for  us;  earnestly 
we  desired  to  be  united  with  Him,  and  would  gladly  en- 
counter all  the  sorrows  before  us  to  be  partakers  of  that 
blessed  body  and  blood.  Oh,  my  God,  spare  and  pity  me. 

"We  returned  home  with  hearts  full  of  many  sensations; 
on  my  part,  sorrow  at  parting  with  the  friends  who  had  been 
BO  kind  to  me  and  the  dear  little  angels  I  tenderly  love 
Itruggled  with  the  joy  of  once  more  embarking  for  home  ; 
while  I  gave  dear  Amabilia  a  farewell  embrace  in  the  bal- 
cony the  sun  rose  bright  and  glorious,  and  called  our  thoughts 
to  that  hour  when  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  would  rise  and 
reunite  us  forever. 

"  The  signal  had  been  given,  the  waterman  waited  for  us, 
and  my  dear  brother  passed  the  struggle  like  a  man  and  a 
Christian  j  dear,  manly  soul,  it  indeed  appeared  to  me  in  the 
'  image  of  God.' 

"  Philip  Filicchi  and  Carl  ton  waited  for  us  at  the  Health 
Office,  and  letters  for  America. 

"  Filicchi's  last  blessing  to  me  was  as  his  whole  conduct 
had  been — that  of  the  truest  friend.  Oh,  Filicchi,  you  shall 
not  witness  against  me.  May  God  bless  you  forever,  and 
may  you  shine  as  the  '  stars  in  glory'  for  what  you  have  done 
for  me ! 

"  At  eight  o'clock,  was  quietly  seated  with  little  Ann  and 
dear  Antonio,  on  the  quarter-deck.  The  anchor  weighed, 
Bails  hoisted,  and  dear  '  yo,  yo !'  resounding  on  all  sides, 
brought  to  remembrance  the  2d  of  October,  1803,  with  a 
force  as  strong  as  could  be  borne :  most  dear  Seton,  where 
are  you  now  ?  I  lose  sight  of  the  shore  that  contains  your 
dear  ashes,  and  your  soul  is  in  that  region  of  immensity 
where  I  cannot  find  you.  My  Father  and  my  God  !  and  yet 
[  must  always  love  to  retrospect  thy  wonderful  dispensations : 
to  be  sent  so  many  thousand  miles  on  so  hopeless  an  errand; 
to  be  constantly  supported  and  accompanied  by  thy  consoling 


102  THE    LIFE    OF 

mercy  through  scenes  of  trial  which  nature  alone  must  have 
sunk  under;  to  be  brought  to  the  light  of  thy  truth,  nut- 
withstanding  every  affection  of  my  heart  and  power  of  mj 
will  was  opposed  to  it ;  to  be  succored  and  cherished  by  the 
tenderest  friendship,  while  separated  and  far  from  those  thai 
I  loved :  my  Father  and  my  God,  while  I  live  let  me  praL«< 
— while  I  have  my  being  let  me  serve  and  adore  thee.l4) 

•During  the  voyage  to  America,  which  occupied  fifty-six 
days,  Mrs.  Seton  conversed  frequently  with  Mr.  Filicchi  on 
the  superiority  of  Catholicity  over  Protestantism,  and  found 
manifest  pleasure  in  uniting  with  him  in  the  exterior  prac- 
tices of  religion,  as  prayer,  fasting,  and  the  observance  of  the 
festivals.  A  portion  of  her  time  was  daily  allotted  to  the 
reading  of  the  lives  of  the  saints.  By  these  holy  exercises 
did  she  endeavor  to  obtain  an  increase  of  divine  grace,  and 
to  fortify  herself  for  the  conflict  she  was  about  to  endure. 
If  she  looked  forward  with  joy  to  the  happiness  of  again 
embracing  her  children,  her  soul  shuddered  at  the  prospect 
of  the  opposition  which  her  newly-acquired  sentiments  on 
religion  were  about  to  excite  against  her.  It  was  plain, 
however,  that,  although  she  dreaded  the  contest,  she  was  not 
disheartened,  because  she  knew  that  in  the  event  of  her 
joining  the  Catholic  church  she  would  be  richly  compen« 
sated  for  any  loss  of  worldly  friends  by  the  peace  and  com- 
fort which  the  consciousness  of  duty  would  impart.  Her 
chief  source  of  anxiety  in  this  respect  seems  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  the  intimate  friendship  that  existed  between 
her  and  the  Rev  John  Henry  Hobart,  her  Protestant  pastor, 
who  subsequently  was  mad  3  bishop  of  the  Episcopal  Church 
in  the  State  of  New  York.  While  on  her  way  home,  the 
anticipation  of  losing  his  esteem  and  severing  the  tie  that 
had  so  long  united  her  to  him  presented  itself  with  a  sad- 
dening influence  to  her  mind  "  As  I  approach  to  you/'  sh« 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  103 

says,  "I  tremble;  and  while  the  dashing  of  the  waves  and 
their  incessant  motion  picture  to  me  the  allotment  which 
God  has  given  me,  the  tears  fall  fast  through  my  fingers  at 
the  insupportable  thought  of  being  separated  from  you; 
and  yet,  my  dear  H.,  you  will  not  be  severe ;  you  will  re- 
spect sincerity,  and  though  you  will  think  me  in  error,  and 
even  reprehensible,  in  changing  my  religion,  I  know  thai 
heavenly  Christian  charity  will  plead  for  me  in  your  affec- 
tions You  have  certainly,  without  my  knowing  it,  been 
dearer  to  me  than  God,  for  whom  my  reason,  my  judgment, 
and  my  conviction,  used  their  combined  force  against  the 
value  of  your  esteem.  The  combat  was  in  vain,  until  I  con- 
sidered that  yourself  would  no  longer  oppose,  or  desire  so 
severe  a  struggle  which  was  destroying  my  mortal  life,  and, 
more  than  that,  my  peace  with  God.  Still,  if  you  will  not 
be  my  brother — if  your  dear  friendship  and  esteem  must  be 
the  price  of  my  fidelity  to  what  I  believe  to  be  the  truth, — I 
cannot  doubt  the  mercy  of  God,  who,  by  depriving  me  of  my 
dearest  tie  on  earth,  will  certainly  draw  me  nearer  to  him ; 
and  this  I  feel  confidently  from  the  experience  of  the  past, 
and  the  truth  of  his  promise,  which  can  never  fail." 

While  Mrs.  Seton  thus  prepared  herself  for  the  opposition 
which  she  had  reason  to  expect  in  consequence  of  the  changa 
in  her  religious  sentiments,  another  severe  trial  awaited  her 
on  her  arrival  in  America.  She  landed  at  New  York,  in 
company  with  her  daughter  and  Mr.  Filicchi,  on  the  4th  of 
June,  when  she  discovered  that  Miss  Rebecca  Seton,  her 
gister-in-law,  whose  virtues  had  rendered  her  an  object  of 
unbounded  admiration,  was  on  the  verge  of  the  grave.  She 
thus  expresses  the  mingled  feelings  of  joy  and  sadness  which 
ghe  experienced  in  being  again  united  to  her  family  : — 

"June  4,  1804. — Do  I  hold  again  my  dear  ones  in  my 
bosom  ? — has  God  restored  all  my  treasure,  even  the  little  soul 
F  have  so  long  contemplated  an  angel  in  heaven  'I  Nature 


104  THE    LIFE    Of 

cries  out  they  are  fatherless,  while  God  himself  replies,  '  1 
am  the  Father  of  the  fatherless  and  the  helper  of  the  help- 
less.' My  God,  well  may  I  cling  to  thee,  for  whom  have  I 
in  heaven  but  thee,  and  whom  upon  earth  beside  thee  ?  My 
heart  and  flesh  fail,  but  thou  art  the  strength  of  my  heart 
and  my  portion  forever. 

"  My  soul's  sister  came  not  out  to  meet  me.  She  too  had 
been  journeying  fast  to  her  heavenly  home ;  her  spirit  now 
seemed  only  to  await  the  consoling  love  and  tenderness  of 
her  beloved  sister  to  accompany  it  in  its  passage  to  eternity; 
to  meet  her  who  had  been  the  dear  companion  of  all  the 
pains  and  all  the  comforts,  of  songs  of  praise  and  notes  of 
sorrow ;  the  dear,  faithful,  tender  friend  of  my  soul  through 
every  varied  scene  of  many  years  of  trial,  gone — only  the 
shadow  remaining,  and  that  in  a  few  days  must  pass  away  ! 
The  home  of  plenty  and  comfort,  the  society  of  sisters  united 
by  prayers  and  divine  affections,  the  evening  hymns,  the 
daily  readings,  the  sunset  contemplations,  the  service  of 
holydays  together,  the  kiss  of  peace,  the  widow's  visits — all, 
all  gone  forever !  And  is  poverty  and  sorrow  the  only  ex- 
change ?  My  husband,  my  sister,  my  home,  my  comforts — 
poverty  and  sorrow.  Well,  with  God's  blessing,  you  too 
shall  be  changed  into  dearest  friends.  To  the  world  you 
show  your  outward  garments,  but  through  them  you  discover 
to  my  soul  the  palm  of  victory,  the  triumph  of  faith,  and  the 
sweet  footsteps  of  my  Redeemer,  leading  direct  to  his  king- 
dom; then  let  me  gently  meet  you,  be  received  in  your 
bosom,  and  be  daily  conducted  by  your  counsels  through  the 
remainder  of  my  destined  journey.  I  know  that  many 
divine  graces  accompany  your  faith,  and  change  the  stings  of 
penance  for  ease  of  conscience,  and  the  solitude  of  the  desert 
for  the  society  of  angels.  The  angels  of  God  accompanied 
the  faithful  when  the  light  of  his  truth  only  dawned  in  the 
world.  And  now  that  the  day-spring  from  on  high  hai 


MBS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  105 

nsited  aud  exalted  our  nature  to  a  union  with  the  Divinity, 
will  these  beneficent  beings  be  less  associated  or  delighted 
to  dwell  with  the  soul  that  is  panting  for  heavenly  joys  and 
longing  to  join  in  their  eternal  alleluiahs  ?  Oh,  no  !  I  will 
imagine  them  always  surrounding  me,  and  in  every  moment 
will  sing  with  them,  '  Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God  of  hosts  ? 
heaven  and  earth  are  full  of  thy  glory.' " 

On  the  18th  of  the  following  month,  death  deprived  Mrs. 
Seton  of  this  cherished  friend.  Speaking  of  the  event,  she 
says : — "  This  is  my  Rebecca's  birthday  in  heaven.  No  more 
watching  now,  my  darling  sister — no  more  agonizing  suffer- 
ings. The  hourly  prayers,  interrupted  by  pains  and  tears, 
are  now  exchanged  for  the  eternal  alleluiah.  The  blessed 
angels,  who  have  so  often  witnessed  our  feeble  efforts,  now 
teach  your  soul  the  songs  of  Sion.  Dear,  dear  soul,  we  shall 
no  more  watch  the  setting  sun  on  our  knees,  and  sigh  our 
soul  to  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  for  he  haa  received  you 
to  his  everlasting  light ;  no  more  sing  praises  gazing  on  the 
moon,  for  you  have  wakened  to  eternal  day ;  that  dear  voice, 
that  soothed  the  widow's  heart,  admonished  the  forgetful 
soul,  inspired  the  love  of  God,  and  only  uttered  sounds  of 
love  and  peace  to  all,  shall  now  be  heard  no  more  among 
us;  but  the  reward  of  those  who  lead  others  to  righteousness 
now  crowns  his  promise  who  has  said,  '  They  shall  shine  aa 
the  stars  forever.' " 

Indoctrinated  as  Mrs.  Seton  was  in  the  principles  of  the 
Catholic  faith,  she  could  not  witness  the  death  of  one  even  so 
beloved  and  so  remarkable  for  her  religious  spirit  as  her  sis 
ter-in-law,  without  being  struck  with  the  contrast  between 
the  empty  resources  of  Protestantism,  and  the  superior  ad- 
vantages of  Catholicity,  in  soothing  the  last  and  most  trying 
hour  of  existence.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend  at  Leghorn,*  after 

*  Mrs.  Amabilia  FUicchi,  wife  of  the  gentleman  who  had  accompanied 
Mr*.  Seton  from  Italy, 


106  THE    LIFE    OP 

Mentioning  the  demise  of  Miss  Rebecca  Seton,  she  adds  :  — 
"  Not  to  stop  on  all  that,  which  at  last  is  all  in  order,  fine* 
it  is  the  will  of  our  God,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  know  you 
have  at  heart  to  know,  that  the  impressions  of  your  example, 
and  the  different  scenes  I  passed  through  in  Leghorn,  are  fa? 
from  heing  effaced  from  my  mind, — which  indeed  could  not, 
even  in  the  most  painful  moments  of  attendance  on  my  be 
loved  Rebecca,  help  the  strong  comparison  of  a  sick  and 
dying  bed  in  your  happy  country,  where  the  poor  sufferer  i* 
soothed  and  strengthened  at  once  by  every  help  of  religion, 
— where  the  one  you  call  the  father  of  your  soul  attends  and 
watches  it  in  the  weakness  and  trials  of  parting  nature,  with 
the  same  care  you  and  I  watch  our  little  infant's  body  in  ite 
first  struggles  and  wants  on  its  entrance  into  life.  Dearesl 
Rebecca,  how  many  looks  of  silent  distress  have  we  exchanged 
about  this  last  passage — this  exchange  of  time  for  eter- 
nity !  To  be  sure,  her  uncommon  piety  and  innocence,  and 
sweet  confidence  in  God,  are  my  full  consolation ;  but  I  mean 
to  say,  that  a  departing  soul  has  so  many  trials  and  tempta- 
tions, that,  for  my  part,  I  go  through  a  sort  of  agony  never 
to  be  described,  even  while  to  keep  up  their  hope  and  courage 
I  appear  to  them  most  cheerful.  Oh  my !  forgive  these  melan- 
choly words;  they  were  here  before  I  knew  it.  Your  day  and 
mine  will  come  too — if  we  are  but  ready  !  The  children  all 
asleep — this  my  time  of  many  thoughts." 

Though  the  loss  of  relatives  and  friends,  endeared  to  her 
by  the  strongest  ties  of  affection,  was  a  severe  affliction  to 
the  heart  of  Mrs.  Seton,  she  had  to  pass  through  an  ordeal 
far  more  painful  to  nature.  The  time  had  now  arrived  for  • 
long  and  difficult  struggle  between  the  artifices  of  error  on 
the  one  hand  and  the  inspirations  of  divine  grace  on  the 
other. 

On  her  leaving  Leghorn,  Mr.  Philip  Filicchi  gave  her  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  the  Rt.  Rev  Dr.  Carroll,  then 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  107 

Bishop  of  Baltimore,  whose  acquaintance  he  had  formed  in 
America,  hoping  that,  by  the  advice  and  instruction  of  that 
distinguished  prelate,  the  religious  impressions  she  had  re- 
ceived in  Italy  would  be  brought  to  a  happy  maturity.  H« 
thus  speaks  of  Mrs.  Seton  : — "  Having  remarked  that  sh« 
added  to  all  her  other  good  qualities  a  very  pious  and  reli- 
gious disposition,  in  a  degree  far  superior  to  what  I  ever  had 
observed  in  people  of  her  persuasion, — having  considered  the 
exactness  with  which  she  fulfilled  the  duties  of  wife  and 
mother, — and  having  been  led  to  presume  in  her  character  an 
uncommon  docility, — I  was  struck  with  the  idea  that  Provi- 
dence had  arranged  the  plan  of  her  voyage  to  Italy  for  the 
particular  purpose  of  giving  her  an  opportunity  of  rectifying 
the  prejudices  entertained  against  our  religion,  of  enlighten- 
ing her  mind,  and  of  granting  her  the  blessing  of  discover- 
ing the  true  Church  and  being  made  a  member  of  it. 
While  I  indulged  this  hope  and  considered  in  discreet  silence 
all  these  things,  she  discovered  to  me  that  I  was  not  de- 
ceived." After  stating  that  she  requested  him  to  give  her 
every  information  on  the  subject,  he  adds : — "  I  seconded  her 
views  with  pleasure  and  awe — with  pleasure  for  the  good  I 
hoped  from  it,  and  awe  for  my  unworthiness  in  executing 
such  an  office ;  for  want  of  ability  and  learning  I  was 
4  encouraged  by  the  consideration  that  Providence  often 
employs  feeble  instruments,  that  its  own  power  and  glory 
may  shine  the  more.  I  gave  her  all  the  information  I  could; 
my  words  seemed  to  conquer  her  natural  prejudices  and 
enlighten  her  understanding.  To  supply  the  defects  of 
my  knowledge,  I  procured  for  her  the  best  books  I  couli 
find,  and  particularly  Bossuet's  Exposition  of  the  Catholic 
Doctrine.  I  recommended  her  to  pray  and  to  consult  those 
who  had  a  mission  to  instruct.  I  promised  her  to  solicit 
your  charity  for  affording  her  the  instructions  I  was  not  able 
to  give,  for  regulating  her  conduct  and  conciliating  with  her 


JOS  THE    LIFE    OF 

duty  as  a  Christian  that  regard  which  the  particular  circum 
stances  of  her  situation  may  require.  All  this  I  solicit 
from  your  goodness  in  her  favor,  and  for  the  honor  of  Him 
who  has  called  you  to  feed  part  of  his  sheep." 

Had  Mrs.  Seton  consulted  without  delay  the  distinguished 
prelate  who  then  presided  over  the  Catholic  Church  in  the 
United  States,  she  would  probably  have  been  spared  much 
of  the  doubt  and  perplexity  which  soon  took  possession  of 
her  mind.  But,  unfortunately,  she  had  been  advised  by  Mr 
Filicchi  to  inform  her  Protestant  pastor  and  friends  of  her 
objection  to  their  communion;  and  her  observance  of  this 
advice,  although  prompted  by  the  best  motives,  necessarily 
excited  against  her  better  views  of  religion  a  storm  of  oppo- 
sition calculated  to  shake  her  firmness,  if  not  altogether  to 
withdraw  her  from  the  path  on  which  she  had  entered.  She 
had  been  justly  led,  by  the  instructions  of  Mr.  Filicchi  and 
the  books  which  she  had  perused,  to  consider  the  Protestant 
religion  as  the  offspring  of  human  passion,  and  possessing  no 
power  or  ministry  from  Christ.  It  had  been  the  aim  of  her 
friends  in  Italy  to  impress  chiefly  on  her  mind  that  funda- 
mental article  of  Christianity,  that  the  Church  alone  is  the 
depositary  of  revealed  truth,  and  commissioned  by  her  Divine 
Founder  to  guide  man  in  the  way  of  salvation.  In  the  manu- 
script which  Mr.  Filicchi  placed  in  her  hands,  as  we  have 
already  stated,  he  dwells  principally  on  this  important  point. 
After  stating  the  doctrine  of  the  Church,  as  contained  in  the 
creed  of  Pope  Pius  IV.,  he  observes : — "  The  above  profession 
contains  all  our  belief.  I  do  not  decline  making  appropriate 
observations  upon  its  various  parts,  though,  if  one  point  were 
well  understood,  the  discussion  of  all  the  others  would  be 
unnecessary; — I  mean  the  authority  of  the  Church  to  inter- 
pret the  sense  of  the  Scriptures.  I  shall  therefore  begin  with 
this;  and,  after  some  brief  remarks  on  the  remaining  points, 
will  refer  you  for  a  better  explanation  of  them  to  the  booki 


MBS.   E.    A.    SETON.  109 

I  have  given  you.  Truth  does  not  fear  discussion;  but  truth 
can  only  be  made  manifest  by  the  grace  of  God,  which  is  only 
granted  to  the  humble  of  heart,  to  those  who  seek  it  sin- 
cerely, who  do  not  depend  on  their  own  light  and  knowledge 
for  the  finding  of  it,  who  pray  to  obtain  it,  and  who  do  not 
seek  it  through  a  vain  curiosity.  Herod  was  curious  to  see 
a  miracle  wrought  by  Jesus  Christ;  but  his  curiosity  was 
not  gratified.*  'Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  unto  you,'  says 
our  Lord.f  '  Wo  unto  them  that  are  wise  in  their  own  eyes, 
and  prudent  in  their  own  sight !'  exclaims  Isaias.  |  After 
this  short  exhortation  respecting  the  means  you  must  adopt 
to  be  made  worthy  of  knowing  the  truth  and  the  dangers 
you  are  to  avoid  in  the  search  of  it,  I  come  to  the  point  in 
question."  After  remarking  that  Protestants  and  Catholics 
both  agree  in  asserting  the  obligation  of  believing  whatever  is 
contained  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  he  continues  his 
argument  in  this  form.  "  If  we  are  bound  to  believe,  we 
must  know  what  is  entitled  to  our  belief.  Who  will  teach 
as  this  science  ?  *  The  Bible,  without  an  authorized  inter- 
preter, cannot  do  it,  since  they  who  appeal  only  to  this 
source  are  divided  into  a  thousand  jarring  sects.  The  Bible 
must  be  legitimately  expounded.  Hence,  our  Saviour  not 
•only  imposed  the  obligation  of  believing,  but  established  a 
Church,  for  the  purpose  of  guarding  and  transmitting  his 
holy  faith.  Protestants  themselves  admit  this.  But  where 
is  that  Church  that  Christ  established,  as  the  pillar  and 
groand  of  truth  ?  It  is  not  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church, 
for  this  dates  its  commencement  only  from  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, whereas  the  Church  of  Christ  is  coeval  with  the  apos- 
tolic age.  It  is  indeed  pretended  that  the  reformers  merely 
rejected  the  errors  that  had  been  introduced  into  the  Church; 
but,  in  this  case,  it  is  plain  that  either  St.  Paul  and  Christ 

•  Lake  iii  8  f  Lake  xi.  9.  J  Isaiah  v.  21. 

10 


110  THE    LIFE    Of 

himself  were  deceived  when  they  pronounced  the  Chureli 
to  be  the  pillar  of  truth  and  unwavering  in  its  faith  to  the 
end  of  time,  or  the  Protestant  Episcopal  sect  is  in  error." 
This  reasoning,  which  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Ca- 
tholic Church  is  the  authority  established  by  Christ,  as  the 
herald  of  his  doctrine,  is  lucidly  developed,  and  followed  by 
a  brief  vindication  of  the  several  points  contained  in  the 
creed  of  Pius  IV. 

Mrs.  Seton  having  been  led  to  abandon  her  early  views 
of  religion  by  her  conviction  of  the  unfounded  pretensions 
of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  all  the  efforts  of  her 
friends  at  home  were  directed  to  the  removal  of  this  im- 
pression, and  every  possible  influence  was  exerted  to  effect 
a  change  in  her  sentiments.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Hobart,  already 
mentioned,  was  the  most  active  in  endeavoring  to  move  her 
from  the  position  she  had  taken ;  and,  if  we  consider  the 
talents  and  address  which  he  had  at  his  command,  she  could 
not  have  met  with  a  more  formidable  opponent.  He  was  a 
man  of  amiable  character  and  practical  ability,  active  and 
unwearied  in  the  duties  of  his  profession,  and  enjoyed  a 
high  reputation  as  a  preacher.  "He  had  all  the  mental  and 
moral  qualities  which  make  men  leaders  of  their  fellows. 
Undaunted,  ready,  and  sagacious,  he  never  abandoned  a 
principle,  deserted  a  friend,  or  quailed  before  an  enemy. 
'  The  Church  needs  no  abler  representative,'  remarked  a 
lawyer,  who  had  heard  him  in  debate;  'he  has  all  the 
talents  of  a  leader  j  he  is  the  most  parliamentary  speaker  I 
ever  met  with ;  he  is  equally  prompt,  logical,  and  practical. 
I  never  saw  that  man  thrown  off  his  centre.'"*  From  these 
qualities  of  Mr.  Hobart  we  may  infer  that  all  the  resources 
that  Protestantism  could  command,  were  brought  to  bear 
igainat  Mrs.  Seton's  preferences  for  Catholicity.  Add  to 

•  Wilbwforce,  Hitt.  of  Prot.  Epite.  Ch*trch  tn.  America,  ch.  ix. 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  Ill 

this,  that  tlie  most  intimate  friendship,  as  we  have  seen, 
had  existed  between  her  and  the  popular,  talented  minister 
of  Trinity  Church.  In  order  to  wean  her  from  her  newly- 
acquired  sentiments  on  religion,  he  undertook  to  refute  the 
doctrinal  treatise  of  Mr.  Filicchi ;  and  in  a  long  letter  which 
he  addressed  to  her,  he  made  an  elaborate  attempt  to  vindi- 
cate the  claims  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  and  to 
prove  that  the  Catholic  Church  had  fallen  into  error,  and 
was  unworthy  of  obedience.(5) 

In  the  conflict  of  mind  which  this  discussion  produced, 
she  at  first  determined,  in  accordance  with  the  advice  of 
Mr.  Filicchi,  to  apply  for  instruction  to  Bishop  Carroll  j 
and  with  this  view  she  penned  the  following  communica 
tion,  which  forms  a  succinct  history  of  the  matter  up  to 
that  period : — 

"REV.  SIR:— 

"  The  enclosed  letter  from  Mr.  Filicchi  will  acquaint  you 
with  the  motive  which  leads  me  to  take  the  liberty  of  ad- 
dressing you.  He  has  indeed  most  kindly  befriended  me, 
in  endeavoring  to  enlighten  and  instruct  my  mind.  The 
first  impression  I  received  from  him,  that  I  was  in  error  and 
in  a  church  founded  on  error,  startled  my  soul,  and  decided 
ine  to  make  every  inquiry  on  the  subject.  The  books  he 
put  into  my  hands  gave  me  an  entire  conviction  that  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church  was  founded  only  on  the  prin- 
ciples and  passions  of  Luther,  and  consequently  that  it  waj 
separated  from  the  church  founded  by  our  Lord  and  hia 
apostles,  and  its  ministers  without  a  regular  succession 
from  them.  Shocked  at  the  idea  of  being  so  far  from  the 
truth,  a  determination  of  quitting  their  communion  and 
uniting  myself  with  yours  became  the  earnest  desire  of  my 
soul,  which,  accustomed  to  rely  supremely  on  divine  grace, 
was  easily  satisfied  on  thoso  points  of  difference  and  peon* 


112  THE    LIFE    Or 

liarity  in  your  Church,  when  it  was  once  persuaded  that  it 
was  the  true  one.  Under  these  impressions  it  remained 
until  my  arrival  in  New  York.  It  was  my  friend  Filicchi'a 
wish,  and  a  respect  due  to  those  pastors  and  friends  from 
whom  I  had  received  my  first  principles  and  affe  tions,  to 
state  my  objections  tc  their  communion ;  but  I  assure  you 
that  in  the  belief  of  those  first  objects  I  mentioned,  (that 
they  proceeded  from  Luther,  and  were  without  a  regular 
succession  from  Christ  and  his  apostles,)  I  felt  my  soul  so 
determined  that  it  appeared  a  wicked  insincerity  to  give 
them  any  hope  of  changing  me ;  when  to  my  great  astonish- 
ment they  give  me  the  most  positive  testimony  that  I  have 
been  deceived  in  those  points.  You  will  naturally  observe 
to  me,  that  I  must  have  expected  an  opposition  where  par- 
ties are  opposed.  Certainly ;  and  had  the  opposition  rested 
on  transubstantiation  or  any  point  of  faith,  be  assured  that 
my  faith  would  not  have  stopped  at  any  point  that  your 
Church  has  yet  proposed  to  me.  But  in  the  decided  testi- 
monies that  are  given  me  by  the  clergy  of  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  Church,  that  they  are  a  true  church,  I  acknow- 
ledge that  the  foundation  of  my  Catholic  principles  is  de- 
stroyed, and  I  cannot  see  the  necessity  for  my  making  a 
change.  It  is  necessary  to  inform  you  that  I  have  felt  iny 
situation  in  the  most  awful  manner,  and,  as  the  mother  and 
sole  parent  of  five  children,  have  certainly  pleaded  with  God 
earnestly,  and,  I  may  strictly  say,  incessantly,  as  it  has  been 
the  only  and  supreme  desire  of  my  soul  to  know  the  truth. 
I  know  that  I  have,  besides  the  errors  of  a  corrapt  nature, 
added  many  sins  to  the  account  he  has  with  me  :  indeed, 
often,  in  the  struggles  of  my  soul,  I  should  have  thought 
myself  deservedly  forsaken  by  him,  had  I  dared  :  impeach 
his  mercy  to  one  who  desires  above  all  things  to  please  him 
and  has  the  greatest  sorrow  for  having  offended  him.  In- 
deed, all  other  sorrow  is  joy  to  me,  and  in  the  many  severe 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  113 

trials  he  Las  been  pleased  to  send  me,  I  have  feared  nothing 
but  the  evil  of  losing  his  favor.  With  the  sincerity  with 
which  1  lay  my  heart  before  him,  I  must  declare  to  you 
that  I  feel  my  mind  decided  in  its  original  sentiments  re- 
specting my  religion.  Mr.  Filicchi,  who  has  accompanied 
me  to  America,  has  requested  me  to  make  this  statement  to 
you ;  and  I  have  promised  him  to  defer  every  further  step 
until  you  will  favor  me  with  an  answer,  and  must  entreat 
you  to  consider  that  my  present  divided  situation  from 
every  communion  is  almost  more  than  I  can  bear,  and  that 
it  will  be  an  act  of  the  greatest  charity  to  forward  your  sen- 
timents as  soon  as  your  leisure  will  permit." 

At  the  time  that  Mrs.  Seton  prepared  this  communica- 
tion to  Bishop  Carroll,  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi  also  wrote  to 
the  bishop,  enclosing  a  letter  of  introduction  from  his 
brother,  both  with  a  view  to  make  himself  known  to  him, 
and  to  solicit  his  co-operation  in  the  difficulties  which  im- 
peded Mrs.  Seton's  progress  in  the  way  of  truth.  He  says  : — 
"  Your  good  advice  in  so  important  a  matter  is  anxiously 
expected,  and  I  doubt  not  of  your  earnest  attention  to  it, 
and  of  an  invincible  direct  reply  to  the  different  statements 
and  observations  contained  in  the  papers  of  one  of  these 
Protestant  ministers  (Mr.  Hobart)  against  those  delivered 
by  my  brother  to  Mrs.  Seton,  which  both  I  think  proper  to 
convey  to  you  in  their  original,  to  be  returned  after  perusal. 
By  the  advice  of  Rev.  Mr.  O'Brien,*  I  have  meanwhile 
put  into  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Seton  the  book,  'England's  Con- 
version and  Reformation/  composed  and  printed  in  Dublin, 
which  she  will  certainly  read  with  the  requisite  attention,— 
her  only  wish,  her  only  intent,  being  to  know  and  act  right 
for  herself  and  for  her  children,  independent  of  whatever 

•  Assistant  pastor  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  city  of  New  York. 
10*  11 


114  THE    LIFE    Of 

worldly  considerations."  Such  was  the  state  of  things  at 
the  date  of  this  letter,  July  26,  1804.  But  before  it  was 
sent  to  Bishop  Carroll,  Mrs.  Seton's  Protestant  friends  had 
prevailed  upon  her  not  to  perplex  her  mind  with  further 
controversy.  At  the  instance  of  Mr.  Filicchi,  she  had  de- 
termined at  first  to  await  the  answer  of  the  bishop  :  but  it 
appears  that  she  afterward  concluded  to  hasten  the  decision 
of  the  question,  as  in  the  same  letter  of  Mr.  Filicchi,  men- 
tioned above,  he  says,  in  the  postscript : — "I  have  left  with 
Rev.  Mr.  O'Brien  the  manuscripts  in  question,  who  has  pro- 
mised me  that  he  will  be  able  for  this  same  evening  to  have 
them  perused  and  answered."*  This  was  unquestionably  a 
critical  moment  for  Mrs.  Seton,  her  mind  being  in  an  agony 
of  suspense,  urged  by  the  call  of  divine  truth  on  the  one 
hand,  and  trammelled  and  fettered  on  the  other  by  the  in- 
fluence of  those  around  her.  Her  happiness,  as  a  child  of 
the  Church,  now  rested  upon  the  uncertain  issue  of  a  con- 
troversy, which  was  the  more  doubtful  in  its  result,  as  it 
was  hurried  to  its  close  at  a  period  when  her  mind  was  in  a 
state  of  the  greatest  obscurity  and  agitation.  Mr.  Filicchi 
forwarded,  in  his  letter  to  Dr.  Carroll,  the  communication 
written  by  Mrs.  Seton;  but  it  is  plain,  from  the  circum- 
stances just  alluded  to,  that  he  enclosed  it  to  the  bishop 
merely  to  furnish  him  with  a  history  of  the  whole  affair, 
and  not  as  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Seton.  On  the  same  day, 
July  26,  he  wrote  to  her  as  follows : — 

"MY  DEAR  SISTER: — 

"  I  have  been,  and  always,  wheresoever,  before  whomso- 
ever, and  before  St.  Peter  himself,  whose  primacy  it  appear* 
you  are  so  decidedly  prevailed  upon  to  deny,  shall  be,  ready 
to  render  justice  from  the  bottom  of  my  oppressed  soul,  to 

*  That  is,  the  manuscript  of  Mr.  Butiart. 


MRS.    E.    A     SETON.  115 

the  sincerity  of  your  heart  in  the  course  you  are  a!  out  to 
follow  in  regard  to  your  religion;  but  it  will  always,  at  the 
same  time,  stand  clear  above  my  eyes  as  a  fact,  that  your 
mind  is  over-influenced  by  an  unaccountable  awe  toward  the 
friends  of  your  old  communion.  Only  intent  to  know  the 
truth,  you  were  ready  to  write,  you  had  written  yourself  to 
Bishop  Carroll,  as  the  proper  person  to  enlighten  your  mind, 
and  you  saw  the  propriety  of  conveying  to  him  the  origins* 
manuscript  that  had  operated  the  change  of  your  mind;  but 
your  old  friends  (they  are  surely  not  the  best  for  it)  come 
forward,  do  not  think  proper,  do  not  choose  to  enter  in  any 
dispute,  do  not  wish  that  your  mind  should  be  exposed  to 
any  more  light,  and  immediately  you  are  prevailed  upon  to 
give  up  your  soul,  your  wishes,  to  their  solicitations.  Your 
new,  neglected  friends,  you  know,  have  followed  the  very 
opposite  system,  as  it  becomes  the  followers  of  truth.  They 
have  not  urged,  they  have  not  limited  you  in  any  way,  in  any 
thing;  and  yet,  if  it  was  true — what  your  old  pretended 
friends  tried  to  insinuate  to  you — that  our  Church  forbids  in- 
vestigation and  commands  an  unreasonable  faith,  they  could 
have  been  easily  excused  if  they  had  acted  differently;  but 
that  your  priests,  who  call  loudly  for  investigation, — who  do 
not  acknowledge  any  authority  above  the  private  reason  of 
any  human  being, — should  persuade  you,  as  a  sacred  duty, 
to  decline  examination,  is  certainly  above  my  comprehension. 
But  she  has,  your  pretended  friends  say,  given  up  her  mind ; 
she  is  easy  about  what  she  was  in  doubt  of  before;  that  if 
enough  for  her  conscience.  I  wish  it  could  be  so,  for  the 
sake  of  your  soul,  my  dear  sister:  I  share  most  cordially  ;he 
Btruggles  of  your  situation ;  but  certainly  it  cannot  be  so  for 
the  conscience  of  your  advisers.  Your  distracted  mind  and 
bleeding  heart  were  equally  made  easy  at  Leghorn  in  a  quite 
different  way.  Your  own  experience  does  not  point  you  (to) 
the  probable  false  security  in  which  they  would  insist  thai 


*16  THE    LIFE    OF 

you  should  remain.  My  virtuous  friend,  you  repeatedlj 
and  solemnly  promised  me  to  wait  for  the  result  of  my  ap- 
plication to  Bishop  Carroll.  I  have  this  morning  explained 
to  him  the  anxiety  of  my  soul  and  yours,  and  I  cannot 
doubt  of  his  best  attention  to  both.  Confirm  me  by  your 
own  handwriting,  and  you  will  better  recollect  the  promise. 
This  is  the  object  of  my  present  unusual  address  by  letter 
to  you.*  It  grieves  me  profoundly  to  keep  your  anxiety  so 
awakened;  but,  according  to  my  sacred  principles  and  my 
most  solid  affection,  how  can  I  spare  you,  my  worthy  sister? 
I  renew  here  in  writing  my  solemn  promise  that  I  shall  be 
in  any  event  your  most  affectionate  and  sincere  friend  till 
my  last  breath,  ready  to  do  every  thing  in  my  power  in  your 
favor,  for  the  best  comfort  of  this  mortal  and  unhappy  life. 
In  my  absence  from  New  York,  or  from  America,  my  purest 
friendship  will  remain  with  you  as  long  as  I  shall  live,  to  be 
your  unshaken  support;  and,  to  that  effect,  an  honorable 
person  will  be  pointed  out  to  you,  to  whom  you  will  be 
pleased  you  shall  apply,  in  my  name,  in  every  emergency, 
without  any  compass  or  control  but  the  extent  of  my  suffi- 
ciency and  your  wants;  and  should  I  die  before  you,  my 
brother,  you  know,  will  be  happy  to  perform  my  wishes  on 
his  account.  But  as  your  own  most  dear  existence,  accord- 
ing to  my  principles  as  well  as  yours,  ought  to  be  readily 
sacrificed  to  the  safety  of  your  soul,  you  will,  I  am  confident, 
beloved  friend,  pardon  me  if,  on  every  occasion,  I  renew  the 
fight  to  your  most  inward  feelings,  in  hopes  that  it  will 
please  the  most  m  tfciful  Almighty  God,  at  least  in  the  last 
moment  of  your  abode  in  this  vale  of  tears,  to  send  his 
Holy  Spirit  to  you,  and  reunite  us  all  in  his  heavenly  king- 


•  Mrs.  Seton  and  Mr.  Filicchi  were  then  both  at  New  York,  and  had 
personal  interviews  with  each  other.  On  this  occasion  he  departed  fio» 
what  was  usual,  and  wrote  to  her. 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  Ill 

dom.     You  ought  otherwise  to  positively  forbid  me  to  Me 
or  address  you  any  more." 

Whether  it  was  this  appeal  to  Mrs.  Seton's  better  judg- 
ment, or  a  reply  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  O'Brien  to  the  manur 
script  of  Mr.  Hobart,  that  produced  a  more  favorable  im- 
pression on  her  mind,  we  are  unable  to  say;  perhaps  both 
contributed  to  fortify  her  against  the  conclusive  step  which 
was  suggested  by  her  Protestant  friends.  Certain  it  is  that 
she  did  not  return  professedly  to  her  former  communion 
with  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  She  continued  to 
investigate  the  subject  and  to  pray  for  increased  light  and 
grace  from  heaven.  In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  Filicchi  awaited 
with  anxious  interest  the  reply  of  Bishop  Carroll;  but, 
several  weeks  having  passed  away  without  any  intelligence 
from  Baltimore,  he  addressed  the  bishop  a  second  letter,  in 
which  he  urged  him  to  comply  with  the  request  already 
made  to  assist  Mrs.  Seton  with  his  advice,  representing  to 
him  that  this  request  regarded  an  affair  of  no  smaller  mo- 
ment than  the  eternal  salvation  of  a  parent  and  her  five 
children.  At  length,  on  the  22nd  of  August,  Bishop  Car- 
roll's answer  reached  Mr.  Filicchi  at  New  York,  who  im- 
mediately communicated  it  to  Mrs.  Seton.  He  thus  in- 
forms Dr.  Carroll  of  the  circumstance,  in  a  letter  dated 
Boston,  4th  of  October,  1804 :— 

r'SlRt— 

"Just  tne  day  before  my  long-delayed  departure  fioa 
New  York,  I  was  made  happy  with  the  honor  of  your  kind 
letter  of  the  20th  of  August,  and  I  went  immediately  out  of 
town  to  communicate  and  leave  it  for  perusal  to  the  worthy 
lady  who  still  labors  under  doubts  and  anxieties  in  her  most 
sincere  wish  for  truth.  Behold  how  she.  expresses  herself  in 
her  first  letter  to  me,  dated  the  30th  of  August: — 'This  day 


118  THE    LIFE    OP 

tompletes  one  week  since  my  dear  brother  left  me.  I  hav» 
thought  of  him  incessantly :  indeed,  I  cannot  think  of  mj 
BOU!  without  remembering  you;  and  as  certainly  the  great- 
est part  of  my  days  and  nights  are  occupied  in  solitude  and 
watching  over  that  poor  soul,  consequently  you  are  the  con- 
stant companion  of  my  thoughts  and  prayers.  When  I 
began  the  Litany  of  Jesus  this  afternoon,  the  plural  number 
put  it  in  my  mind  to  say  it  for  you  also;  and  praying  heart- 
ily for  you  made  me  resolve  to  write  to  my  dear  brother. 
The  bishop's  letter  has  been  held  to  my  heart,  on  my  knees 
beseeching  God  to  enlighten  me  to  see  the  truth,  unmixed 
with  doubts  and  hesitations.  I  read  the  promises  given  to 
St.  Peter  and  the  sixth  chapter  every  day,  and  then  ask  God 
can  I  offend  him  by  believing  those  express  words.  I  read 
my  dear  St.  Francis,  and  ask,  is  it  possible  that  I  shall  dare 
to  think  differently  from  him,  or  seek  heaven  any  other  way  ? 
I  have  read  your  England? a  Reformation,  and  find  its  evi- 
dence too  conclusive  to  admit  of  any  reply.  God  will  not 
forsake  me,  Antonio :  I  know  that  he  will  unite  me  to  his 
flock ;  and,  although  my  faith  is  unsettled,  I  am  assured  that 
he  will  not  disappoint  my  hope,  which  is  fixed  in  his  own 
word,  that  he  will  not  despise  the  humble,  contrite  heart, 
which  would  esteem  all  the  losses  of  this  world  as  greatest 
gain,  if  it  can  be  so  happy  as  to  please  him.  September  2. 
— I  was  willing  to  embrace  an  excuse  for  not  going  to  town 
last  Sunday,  in  compliance  with  your  advice,  and  my  brother 
Post  came  to  visit  me.  Our  conversation  turned  accident- 
ally on  the  subject  that  engrosses  my  soul,  and  led  me  to  an 
explanation  with  him,  very  interesting,  and,  I  believe,  surpris- 
ing to  him,  as  I  fixed  my  argument  on  literal  words  rathei 
than  human  fancy.  His  cool  and  quiet  judgment  could  not 
follow  the  flight  of  my  faith ;  but  he  was  so  candid  as  to  ad- 
mit that,  if  before  God  I  believed  the  doctrine  of  the  Church 
to  be  true,  the  errors  or  imperfections  of  its  members  could 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  119 

not  justify  a  separation  from  its  communion.  But  still  the 
hideous  objects  will  present  themselves  which  disturb  my 
soul  and  unsettle  my  faith ;  and,  though  God  is  so  gracious 
as  to  give  me  the  fullest  assurance  that  through  the  name 
of  Jesus  my  prayers  shall  finally  be  answered,  yet  there 
•eems  n  :»w  a  cloud  before  my  way  that  keeps  me  always  ask- 
ing him  which  is  the  right  path.  Indeed,  my  brother,  when 
the  remembrance  of  my  sins  and  unholiness  before  God 
strikes  my  memory  with  their  fullest  convictions,  I  only  won- 
der  how  I  can  expect  from  him  so  great  a  favor  as  the  light 
of  his  truth,  until  the  sorrow  and  penance  of  my  remaining 
life  shall  invite  his  pitying  mercy  to  grant  it.  Remember 
to  pray  for  me.  Sept.  8. — This  is  the  Nativity  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  and  I  have  tried  to  sanctify  it,  begging  God 
to  look  on  my  soul  and  see  how  gladly  I  would  kiss  her  feet( 
because  she  was  his  mother,  and  joyfully  show  every  expres- 
sion of  reverence  that  even  my  Antonio  would  desire,  if  1 
could  do  it  with  freedom  of  soul  which  followed  from  know- 
ledge of  his  will.  Mr.  Hobart  was  here  for  the  first  tim? 
yesterday,  since  your  absence,  and  was  so  entirely  out  of  ah 
patience  that  it  was  in  vain  to  show  the  letter.  He  says, 
"  The  Church  is  corrupt ;  we  have  returned  to  the  primitive' 
doctrine,  and  what  more  would  you  have  when  you  act  ac- 
cording to  your  best  judgment?"  I  tell  him,  that  would  be 
enough  for  this  world,  but  I  fear  for  the  next  to  meet  an 
other  question.  His  visit  was  short,  and  painful  on  botl 
sides.  God  direct  me,  for  I  see  it  is  in  vain  to  look  for  help 
from  any  one  but  him.  Sept.  12. — Three  of  my  children 
have  the  whooping-cough,  and,  as  I  watch  them  the  greater 
part  of  the  night,  my  prayers  are  often  repeated.  But  oh, 
Antonio,  when  will  my  poor  soul  be  worthy  to  be  heard,  and 
make  its  direct  applications  with  that  liberty  of  spirit  which 
the  light  of  truth  alone  can  give  to  it  ?  I  repeat  to  you, 
pray  for  me.  It  will  benefit  us  both;  and,  when  you  wish 


120  THE    LIFE    OF 

k>  add  a  cordial  drop  of  sweetness  to  my  cup,  write  some  oi 
the  thoughts  of  your  soul/ 

"  Last  week  I  received  another  letter  from  her,  and  to- 
day I  receive  a  third,  which  both  I  take  the  liberty  of  en- 
slosiiu  /)  you  in  their  originals,  to  give  you  an  accurate 
idea  of  her  merit  and  struggles.  The  earnest  acknowledg- 
ment expressed  in  the  beginning  of  her  last  letter  of  the 
27th  September  relates  to  my  proposal  of  sending  her  back 
with  her  children  to  Italy,  in  search  of  the  lost  quiet  of  her 
soul  and  mind.  Sensible  of  my  incapacity,  particularly  in 
a  foreign  language,  in  which  I  hardly  can  make  myself  in- 
telligible, I  suggested  to  her  to  address  you  herself  with  her 
doubts  and  questions.  Your  wise,  holy  instructions,  in  such 
a  delicate  and  interesting  case,  direct  or  through  me,  are 
certainly  the  only  adequate  ones,  and  would  most  deeply 
gratify,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

"ANTHONY  FILICCHI." 

We  will  here  present  at  length  the  two  letters  of  Mrs. 
Seton  alluded  to  by  her  friend,  exhibiting  as  they  do  a  faith- 
ful picture  of  her  soul  at  this  time,  her  yearnings  for  the 
truth,  and  her  struggles  with  the  interior  blindness  which 
it  pleased  Divine  Providence  to  send  her,  and  with  the  out- 
ward difficulties  which  she  met  with  from  the  efforts  of  her 
Protestant  friends : — 

"Sept.  19,  1804 
''MY  MOST  DEAR  BROTHER: — 

"You  say  you  must  know  all  my  concerns,  interior  and 
exterior.  As  for  the  latter,  they  are  easily  related.  I 
have  seen  no  one  since  I  wrote  to  you  but  my  Philadelphia 
friend,  Mrs.  Scott,  whose  tenderness  to  me  is  unremittedj 
Mrs.  Sadler,  who  cannot  enter  into  the  spirit  of  our  cause  j 
and  Captain  Blagg,  who  came  to  offer  his  services,  if  I  had 


MRS    X.   A.   8ETON.  121 

any  commands  in  Leghorn  or  Paris.  Mr.  Hobart,  and  all 
the  other  misters,  have  left  me  to  my  contemplations,  or 
rather  to  my  'best  judgment/  I  suppose, — but,  I  rather  hope, 
— to  God.  So  much  for  exterior,  to  which  I  only  add,  I  am 
very  well,  though  quite  oppressed  with  fatigue  occasioned  by 
my  poor  little  children's  whooping-cough.  In  order  to  dis- 
close to  you  the  interior,  I  must  speak  to  you  as  to  God. 
To  him  I  say,  'When  shall  my  darkness  be  made  light?'  for 
really  it  would  seem  that  the  evil  spirit  has  taken  his  place 
go  near  my  soul  that  nothing  good  can  enter  in  it  without 
being  mixed  with  his  suggestions.  In  the  life  of  St.  Au- 
gustine I  read  that  'where  he  is  most  active,  and  obstacles 
seem  greatest  in  the  divine  service,  there  we  have  reason  to 
conclude  that  success  will  be  most  glorious.'  The  hope  of 
this  glorious  success  is  all  my  comfort;  for  indeed  my  spirit 
is  sometimes  so  severely  tried  it  is  ready  to  sink.  This 
morning  I  fell  on  my  face  before  God,  (remember,  I  tell  you 
all,)  and  appealed  to  him  as  my  righteous  Judge,  if  hardness 
of  heart  or  unwillingness  to  be  taught,  or  any  human  reasons, 
stood  between  me  and  the  truth, — if  I  would  not  rejoice  to 
cast  my  sorrows  on  the  bosom  of  the  Blessed  Mary,  to  en- 
treat the  influence  of  all  his  blessed  saints  and  angels,  to 
pray  for  precious  souls  even  more  than  for  myself,  and  ac- 
count myself  happy  in  dying  for  his  sacred  truth,  if  once 
my  soul  could  know  it  was  pleasing  to  him.  I  remembered 
how  much  these  exercises  had  comforted  and  delighted  me 
at  Leghorn,  and  recalled  all  the  reasons  which  had  ttere 
convinced  me  of  their  truth,  and  immediately  a  cloud  of 
ioubts  and  replies  raised  a  contest  in  this  poor  soul,  and  I 
jould  only  again  cry  out  for  mercy  to  a  sinner,  and  implore 
His  pity  who  is  the  source  of  life,  light,  and  truth,  to  en- 
lighten my  eyes  that  I  sleep  not  in  death — that  death  of  sin 
and  error  which  with  every  power  of  my  soul  I  endeavor 
to  escape. 
11 


122  THE    LIFE    Of 

"After  reading  the  life  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen,  I  thought, 
Come,  my  soul,  let  us  turn  from  all  these  suggestions  of  one 
side  or  the  other,  and  quietly  resolve  to  go  to  that  church 
irhich  has  at  least  the  multitude  of  the  wise  and  good  on  its 
eide ;  and  began  to  consider  the  first  steps  I  must  take.  The 
first  step — is  it  not  to  declare  I  believe  all  that  is  taught  by 
the  Council  of  Trent?  and  if  I  said  that,  would  not  tha 
Searcher  of  Hearts  know  my  falsehood  and  insincerity? 
Could  you  say  that  you  would  be  satisfied  with  his  bread, 
and  believe  the  cup,  which  he  equally  commanded,  unneces- 
sary? Could  you  believe  that  the  prayers  and  litanies  ad- 
dressed to  our  Blessed  Lady  are  acceptable  to  God,  though 
not  commanded  in  Scripture,  &c.  &c.  ?  By  all  which  I  find, 
and  you,  my  Antonio,  will  be  out  of  patience  to  find,  that 
the  tradition  of  the  Church  has  not  the  true  weight  of  autho- 
rity in  my  mind.  Do  not  be  angry.  Pity  me.  Remember 
the  mixtures  of  truth  and  error  which  have  been  pressed 
upon  my  soul,  and  rather  pray  for  me,  than  reproach  me; 
for  indeed  I  make  every  endeavor  to  think  as  you  wish  me, 
and  it  is  only  the  most  obstinate  resistance  of  my  mind  that 
prevents  my  immediately  doing  also  as  you  wish  me ;  and  all 
I  can  do  is  to  renew  my  promise  that  1  will  pray  incessantly, 
and  strive  to  wash  out  with  tears  and  penance  the  sins  which, 
I  fear,  oppose  my  way  to  God.  Again  I  repeat,  pray  for 
me." 

On  the  27th  of  September  Mrs.  Seton  again  wrote  to 
Mr.  Filicchi,  as  follows: — 

"  It  is  necessary  to  lay  the  restraint  of  discretion  on  my 
pen,  while  I  thank  you  for  your  letter  of  the  20th,  which, 
though  but  two  hours  ago  received,  has  been  already  read 
over  many  times.  The  pen  is  restrained,  but  the  heart, 
which  is  before  God,  blesses  and  adores  him  in  unbounded 
thanksgiving  for  such  a  friend.  Your  goodness  to  me  he 
only  can  reward.  To  answer  you  fully  now  would  not  b« 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  123 

proper  in  any  way,  especially  as  you  see  my  poor  soul  is  still 
more  unsettled  and  perplexed  fron.  day  to  day,  not  from  any 
failure  in  its  prayers  or  entreaties  to  God,  which  are  rather 
redouoled  than  neglected,  but,  like  a  bird  struggling  in  a  net, 
it  cannot  escape  its  fears  and  tremblings. 

"  This  afternoon,  after  dismissing  the  children  to  play, 
I  w«nt  to  my  knees  in  my  little  closet,  to  consider  what  I 
should  do  and  how  my  sacred  duty  would  direct.  Should  I 
again  read  those  books  I  first  received  from  Mr.  Hobart? 
My  heart  revolted,  for  I  know  there  are  all  the  black  accusa- 
tions, and  the  sum  of  them  too  sensibly  torments  my  soul. 
Should  I  again  go  over  those  of  the  Catholic  doctrine,  though 
every  page  I  read  is  familiar  to  me,  and  my  memory  re- 
presents in  rotation  the  different  instructions  and  replies? 
Since  your  absence  I  have  read  the  book  your  brother  first 
gave  me,  and  the  one  you  also  gave,  with  the  most  careful 
attention, — not  only  with  attention,  but  always  with  prayer, 
— and  now  must  look  up  to  that  as  my  only  refuge,  prayer 
at  all  times,  in  all  places.  Really,  Antonio,  my  most  dear 
brother,  to  whom  I  can  speak  every  secret  of  my  soul,  I  have 
prayed,  and  do  pray  so  much,  that  it  seems  every  thought  is 
prayer;  and  when  I  awake  from  my  short  sleeps  my  mind 
seems  to  have  been  praying,  and  the  poor  eyes  are  really 
almost  blind  with  incessant  tears, — for  can  I  pray  for  such 
a  favor  without  a  beating  heart  and  torrents  of  tears  ?  My 
cliildren  say,  '  Poor  mamma/  continually,  and  really  are 
better  than  they  were,  that  they  may  not  add  to  my  sorrow. 
Yet  sweet  are  these  tears,  and  sweet  are  the  sorrows;  great 
is  my  comfort,  that,  though  the  almighty  Source  of  Light 
does  not  visit  me  with  his  blessed  light,  yet  he  does  not 
leave  me  contented  and  insensible  in  my  darkness. 

"Sept.  29. — This  day  has  been  a  feast-day  to  the  children 
and  a  holiday  from  school,  that  I  might  give  the  greatest 
portion  of  the  hours  to  God.  You  would  have  been  pleased 


124  THE    LIFE    Of 

to  hear  their  questions  about  St.  Michael,  and  how  eagerly 
they  listened  to  the  history  of  the  good  offices  done  to  UP  by 
the  blessed  angels,  and  of  St.  Michael  driving  Lucifer  out 
of  heaven,  &c.  They  always  wait  on  their  knees  after  prayers 
till  I  bless  them  each  with  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  I  look 
up  to  God  with  an  humble  hope  that  he  will  not  forsake  us. 
I  could  tell  you  many  things,  my  brother,  but  must  wait  foi 
the  much  wished-for  hour  when  we  shall  be  seated  with  OUT 
big  book  at  the  table.  /  could  cry  out  now  as  my  poor  Seton 
used  to  do,  Antonio,  Antonio,  Antonio;  but  call  back  the 
thought,  and  my  soul  cries  out,  Jesus,  Jesus,  Jesus;  there 
it  finds  rest  and  heavenly  peace,  and  is  hushed  by  that  dear 
Bound,  as  my  little  babe  is  quieted  by  my  cradle-song.  The 
Jesus  Psalter,  in  the  little  book  you  gave  me,  is  my  favorite 
office,  because  it  so  often  repeats  that  name;  and  when 
thought  goes  to  you,  Antonio,  and  imagines  you  in  the  pro- 
miscuous company  you  must  meet,  without  any  solid  grati- 
fication, fatigued  by  your  excursions,  wandering  in  your 
fancy,  &c.  &c.,  oh,  how  I  pray  that  the  Holy  Spirit  may  not 
leave  you,  and  that  your  dear  angel  may  even  pinch  you  at 
the  hour  of  prayers  rather  than  suffer  you  to  neglect  them ! 
You  charge  me  not  to  neglect  the  lives  of  the  Saints,  which 
I  could  not,  if  I  would,  for  they  interest  me  so  much  that 
the  little  time  I  can  catch  for  reading  is  all  given  to  them : 
indeed,  they  are  a  relaxation  to  my  mind,  for  they  lessen  all 
my  troubles  and  make  them  as  nothing  by  comparison 
When  I  read  that  St.  Austin  was  long  in  a  fluctuating  state 
of  mind  between  error  and  truth,  I  say  to  myself,  Be  patient, 
God  will  bring  you  home  at  last;  and  as  for  the  lessons  of 
self-denial  and  poverty,  if  St.  Francis  de  Sales  and  the  life 
of  our  dear  Master  had  not  before  pointed  out  to  me  the 
many  virtues  and  graces  that  accompany  them,  I  should  even 
wish  for  them,  to  be  like  those  dear,  dear  saints,  in  any  re- 
ipect.  Antonio,  Antonio,  why  cannot  my  poor  soul  be  satis- 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  125 

fied  that  your  religion  is  now  the  same  that  theirs  then  waa? 
How  can  it  hesitate? — why  must  it  struggle? — the  Almightf 
only  can  decide." 

After  expressing  her  solicitude  to  hear  from  him,  she  con 
tinues : — 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  my  own  letters — they  are  all  egotism 
but  my  soul  is  so  entirely  engrossed  by  one  subject,  that  it 
cannot  speak  with  freedom  on  any  other.  Day  after  day 
passes,  and  I  see  no  one;  indeed,  I  can  say  with  perfect  truth 
at  all  times,  I  prefer  my  solitude  to  the  company  of  any 
human  being,  except  that  of  my  most  dear  Antonio.  You 
know  my  heart,  you  know  my  thoughts,  my  pains  and  sor- 
rows, hopes  and  fears.  Jonathan  loved  David  as  his  own 
soul,  and  if  I  was  your  brother,  Antonio,  I  would  never  leave 
you  for  one  hour;  but  as  it  is,  I  try  rather  to  turn  every  af- 
fection to  God,  well  knowing  that  there  alone  their  utmost 
exercise  cannot  be  misapplied  and  most  ardent  hopes  can 
never  be  disappointed.  The  idea  you  suggested  to  me  of 
writing  to  Bishop  Carroll  was  suggested  by  a  good  or  an 
evil  angel,  immediately  after  your  departure.  The  Pro- 
testants say  I  am  in  a  state  of  temptation;  you  must  natu- 
rally think  the  same.  The  Almighty  is  my  defence  in  either 
case,  not  from  any  claim  of  mine,  but  through  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Is  it  possible  I  can  do  wrong  in  writing  to 
him,  sanctioned  by  your  direction  ?  At  least  I  will  have  a 
letter  prepared  by  the  time  you  come." 

It  is  plain,  from  the  tenor  of  the  preceding  letters,  that 
Mrs.  Seton's  mind  was  in  a  painful  state  of  uncertainty, 
which  continued  to  disturb  and  agitate  her  soul,  although 
she  possessed  the  most  conclusive  evidences  in  favor  of  the 
Catholic  religion ;  and  it  seemed  that  Divine  Providence 
permitted  her  to  be  thus  the  sport  of  conflicting  sentiments, 
in  order  to  render  her  ultimate  triumph  over  error  the  more 
signal,  and  to  disengage  her  affections  the  more  perfectlj 


126  THE     LIFE     01 

from  creatures.  The  letter  of  Bishop  Carroll  to  Mr.  Filicchi 
relative  to  her  situation,  was  a  source  of  great  comfort  tc 
her  under  these  circumstances.  She  was  also  very  much 
encouraged  and  supported  *r»  her  trials  by  the  advice  and 
exhortations  which  she  r-ceived  from  Mr.  Philip  Filicchi, 
of  Leghorn,  brother  of  the  gentleman  just  mentioned. 
After  having  been  kindly  instructed  by  him  in  Italy  on  the 
various  points  of  Catholic  doctrine,  so  far  as  to  be  convinced 
of  their  truth,  she  deemed  it  but  proper  to  inform  him  of 
the  subsequent  trouble  which  had  come  over  her  mind  and 
prevented  her  from  declaring  herself  a  member  of  the 
Church.  The  answer  of  her  friend  is  equally  indicative  of 
his  learning,  piety,  and  wisdom ;  and,  while  it  shows  the 
valuable  helps  which  the  Almighty  sent  her  at  this  critical 
period,  may  suggest  to  others  those  prudent  counsels  which 
will  always  be  found  useful  in  a  situation  like  hers : — 

"LEGHORN,  Oct  17,  1804. 

"DEAR  MADAM  : — 

"  I  received  yesterday  by  the  Mercury  yours  of  the  27th 
of  July.  I  assure  you,  my  dear  Mrs.  Seton,  that  in  reading 
it  I  did  not  feel  the  slightest  emotion  of  indignation,  but 
my  heart  was  deeply  affected  by  the  consideration  of  your 
danger.  I  wish  I  had  been  with  you.  My  endeavors 
would  have  been  devoted  entirely  to  calm  your  anxiety. 
'Why  art  thou  sorrowful,  my  soul?  Trust  in  God/ — I 
would  have  taught  you  to  repeat,  with  the  royal  prophet. 
You  could  not  fail  to  meet  with  contradictions.  I  expected 
them.  An  imagination  like  yours,  rendered  so  sensible  by 
constant  stretch,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  a  great  pro- 
pensity to  melancholy,  are  natural  affections,  which  I  dreaded 
might  throw  you  in  trouble.  I  was,  however,  in  hopes  to 
have  furnished  you  with  a  remedy,  by  giving  you  that  ex- 
cellent treatise  of  the  '  Consolation  of  a  Christian.'  I  trusted 


MRS    E.   A     8ETON  127 

yo»  would  have  learned  that,  as  we  cannot  do  a  single  good 
thing,  not  even  form  a  good  thought,  of  ourselves,  we  must 
throw  ourselves  .entirely  on  the  mercy  of  God;  that  he  has 
the  power  and  the  will  to  help  us,  that  we  can  do  every  thing 
with  his  succor,  and  that  he  will  not  suffer  us  to  be  tempted 
at  ove  our  strength,  as  St.  Paul  assures  us.  I  was  in  hopes 
that  you  would  have  retained  the  maxim  that  our  Saviour 
"wishes  our  salvation  more  than  we  can  wish  it  ourselves. 
Your  anxiety,  therefore,  is  unreasonable,  and  your  trouble 
a  temptation.  You  pray  to  your  Father,  to  your  Creator, 
and  to  your  Saviour,  and  you  tremble.  You  do  not  know 
his  goodness.  These  were  not  the  sentiments  that  accom- 
panied the  prodigal  child,  nor  Mary  Magdalen.  St.  Paul, 
fallen  from  his  horse  and  called  by  Him  whom  he  knew 
not,  did  not  trouble  himself.  He  calmly  said,  '  What  will 
you  have  me  to  do  ?'  *  It  is  only  in  calm  and  tranquillity 
that  we  may  do  some  good.  It  is  only  our  enemy  who  de- 
lights in  trouble,  as  trouble  is  his  element.  He  knows  that 
he  cannot  catch  fish  in  clear  water.  You  are  perplexed — • 
uncertain.  Pray  constantly  and  with  fervor,  but  calmly. 
If  you  trouble  yourself  for  being  troubled,  you  will  never 
find  peace. 

"The  objections  started  by  your  divines  have  consoled 
me,  because  I  have  not  seen  any  thing  new  in  them ; 
nothing  I  did  not  know  before.  It  is  the  old  cant  masterly 
coinbatted  in  all  ages.  I  shall  have  no  difficulty  to  encoun- 
ter in  answering  it  to  your  satisfaction.  I  shall  not  need  t 
study  much.  You  must,  however,  be  sensible  that,  as  I 
answer  your  letter  immediately  after  its  receipt,  I  cannot 
do  it  now.  I  shall  clear  all  your  doubts  by  the  return  of 
the  Mercury. 

"I  shall  only  say  a  few  words  on  the  most  essential 
point,  01  the  basis  of  the  edifice.  You  say  that  your  divines 
disclaim  Luther  and  Calvin  as  their  patriarchs — as  the 


128  THE     IMFE     OF 

authors  of  their  Reformation,  as  they  call  it.  Have  thej 
named  you  the  man  ?  But  names  are  nothing  to  our  pur- 
pose. Let  us  condemn  them  to  oblivion.  They  deserve  it. 
Do  they  deny  that  the  Protestant  Church,  the  Reformed 
Church,  or  the  Church  of  England,  began  in  the  sixteenth 
century?  If  they  do,  have  recourse  to  the  history  of  Eng- 
land. I  refer  you  to  their  own  writers — to  writers  of  their 
own  profession.  Can  I  be  more  generous  or  liberal  ?  They 
add,  that  their  church  comes  directly  and  uninterruptedly 
from  Jesus  Christ  and  the  apostles,  having  had  a  constant 
succession  of  priests ;  but  are  they  able  to  name  you  a  num- 
ber of  them,  a  congregation  of  faithful,  who,  ten  or  twelve 
years  before  the  Reformation,  professed  openly  the  same 
tenets  they  do  now — who,  for  instance,  had  declared  con- 
fession an  abominable  imposition,  the  invocation  of  saints 
idolatry,  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass  an  abomination  ?  They 
cannot.  All  their  priests  a  few  days  before  had  said  mass, 
had  heard  confessions,  had  invoked  the  saints.  If  the.^ 
are  errors,  they  did  not  belong  to  the  true  Church,  because 
the  Church  of  Christ  could  not  err.  Their  succession, 
therefore,  is  of  no  use  to  their  cause.  Do  not  hastily  trust 
them.  Apply  to  me  with  that  confidence  you  show  for  me, 
for  which  I  thank  you.  I  shall  never  betray  it.  Mark  the 
difference  between  their  conduct  and  mine,  and  you  will 
judge  who  is  led  by  the  purest  motives.  They  endeavor  to 
frighten  you,  to  force  you  to  a  hasty  declaration;  they 
threaten  to  make  a  public  business  of  a  private  concern. 
Violence  was  never  the  characteristic  of  charity  Was  thit 
my  conduct  ?  Did  I  ever  propose  you  any  temporal  benefit 
as  an  allurement  ?  Did  I  take  advantage  of  your  docility 
to  listen  to  my  instructions,  to  hasten  your  decision  ?  Did 
I  not,  on  the  contrary,  restrain  your  ardor,  that  you  might 
prove  yourself?  All  this  I  have  done,  and  not  through  a 
•entiment  of  indifference,  because  I  am  as  zealous  in  the 


MRS.    E.   A.    8ETON.  129 

cause  as  they  may  be;  but  surprise,  threats,  violence,  are 
instruments  I  despise. 

"I  must  warn  you  against  an  error  I  «»ee  you  are  subject 
to.  You  have  suffered  your  poor  brain  to  be  distracted  by 
controversies  on  the  real  presence  and  the  invocation  of 
saints.  Do  you  expect  to  understand  all  the  subaltern 
questions  that  may  arise  ?  If  you  are  sick,  you  send  for  a 
doctor.  Do  you  pretend  to  question  him  on  every  point  of  his 
medical  science  before  you  submit  yourself  to  his  prescrip- 
tions ?  You  are  satisfied  to  know  that  he  is  one  of  the  best 
doctors  in  the  place.  Our  prudence  in  temporal  concerns 
may  well  be  followed  in  our  spiritual  ones.  The  study  of 
religion  cannot,  ought  not  to  be  complicated.  You  know 
that  Jesus  Christ  has  established  a  Church  that  cannot  err, 
cannot  fall,  and  of  course  cannot  be  subject  to  variation,  nor 
begin  at  a  period  distant  from  that  in  which  he  lived  among 
us.  Seek  therefore  this  Church.  If  you  find  it,  submit 
yourself  to  her  decisions  without  further  inquiries.  If  God 
has  a  right  over  our  actions  and  our  desires,  he  must  have 
an  equal  one  over  our  understanding.  Your  submission 
will  be  reconcilable,  even  in  those  points  you  may  not  un- 
derstand, because  it  is  reasonable  to  trust  in  the  word  of  a 
Church  which  is  the  column  of  firmness  and  truth.  If  we 
were  obliged  to  extend  our  inquiries  further,  few  of  us 
would  have  leisure  for  it,  and  none  the  talents. 

"  Pray  be  sincere  in  your  desire  of  knowing  the  truth;  do 
not  listen  tc  secondary  and  worldly  considerations,  and  you 
will  be  enlightened. 

"  Have  you  ever  made  a  reflection  ?  It  may  tend  to  calm 
your  apprehensions,  though  it  is  insufficient  to  make  a  good 
Catholic.  All  your  divines  admit  that  a  Roman  Catholic 
may  be  saved.  What  risk  do  you  run,  therefore,  in  tha 
change?  To  put  one's  self  on  the  safer  side  is  certainly 
prudence.  I  shall  write  to  you  fully  at  leisure.  Do  not  de> 


130  THE    LIFE    Of 

prive  me  of  your  confidence.  Open  year  heart.  This  will 
relieve  you.  You  cannot  displease  me.  1  m:>y  help  you,  ot 
pity  you.  I  shall  never  cease  to  pray  for  you. 

"  Your  affectionate  and  sincere  friend, 

"  PHILIP  FILICCHI  " 

It  is  impossible  to  imagine  any  thing  more  admirably 
adapted  to  the  object  in  view  than  the  wise  instructions  con- 
tained in  the  preceding  remarks.  In  reading  them  we  fancy 
.ourselves  listening  rather  to  the  exact  and  well-timed  expo- 
sitions of  the  learned  and  pious  divine,  than  to  the  friendly 
advices  given  by  a  layman  actively  engaged  in  secular  pur- 
suits. The  following  letters  from  the  same  gentleman  are 
filled  with  the  same  wisdom,  which  may  be  profitably  read 
by  all:— 

"  LEGHORN,  Oct.  22,  1804. 

"  DEAR  MADAM  : — 

"  Enclosed  is  the  duplicate  of  the  letter  I  wrote  you,  the 
17th  inst.,  in  answer  to  yours  of  the  27th  July.  I  am  be- 
come very  uneasy,  both  for  you  and  for  myself,  and  I  lament 
much  more  your  imprudence  and  mine:  yours,  for  having 
resisted  the  light  that  has  shown  you  the  precipice  you  have 
before  your  feet;  mine,  for  having  exposed  you  to  it  by  re- 
straining your  first  zeal.  When  you  left  us,  no  doubt  re- 
mained in  your  mind.  How  imprudent  was  it,  then,  to  sub- 
mit your  determination  to  the  censure  of  people  who  could 
not  be  expected  to  do  otherwise  than  oppose  it,  and  intro- 
duce trouble  and  disquiet  in  your  conscience,  to  deter  you 
from  it!  In  a  spiritual  concern  you  have  followed  only 
worldly  prudence,  which  the  gospel  calls  folly.  You  have 
acted  as  if  you  had  thought  that  God  was  not  tc  be  obeyed 
without  the  consent  and  advice  of  your  friends.  You  have 
met  with  the  punishment  you  deserved.  In  lieu  of  that 
serenity  you  had  acquired  from  the  knowledge  of  truth, 
anxiety  and  trouble  have  taken  possession  of  your  mind 


MRS.    E.    A.    oETON  131 

JToiii  heart  Is  become  weak  and  your  resolutions  fallen  to 
nothing.  1  mr  understanding  is  clouded,  and  your  intellect 
is  full  of  darkness.  Remember  the  answer  that  Jesus  Christ 
gave  to  a  man  who  acted  like  you : — 'And  another  said,  I  will 
follow  thee,  Lord;  but  let  me  first  take  my  leave  of  them 
that  are  at  my  house.  Jesus  said  to  him,  No  man  putting 
his  hand  to  the  plough  and  looking  back  is  fit  for  the  king- 
dom of  God.'  (St.  Luke,  at  the  close  of  the  9th  chapter.) 
If  in  those  people  who  had  taken  care  to  instruct  you  you 
had  found  any  symptom  of  interested  views,  of  duplicity, 
and  of  a  desire  to  surprise  you,  your  conduct  might  be  justi- 
fiable ;  but  you  never  saw  any  thing  of  it.  You  had  clearly 
seen  the  contradictions  that  rendered  your  former  persuasion 
very  suspicious,  and  you  had  acknowledged  them,  viz.:  first, 
The  difficulty  that  is  met  with  by  all  those  who  pretend  to 
find  a  succession  in  the  Protestant  Church  from  the  primi- 
tive Church  under  the  apostles.  All  the  Reformers  having 
been  first  Roman  Catholics,  no  Protestant  Church  having 
existed  between  the  fifth  century,  from  which  they  date  our 
corruption,  and  the  sixteenth,  from  which  their  reform  is 
dated  in  all  histories,  they  meet  with  an  interruption  that 
baffles  all  their  efforts  to  fill  up.  Secondly,  Their  refusal  to 
acknowledge  the  necessity  of  confession,  and  their  directions 
to  the  ministers  attending  the  sick  to  advise  such  a  confes- 
sion, and  give  absolution  in  consequence  of  it.  Thirdly,  To 
fancy  a  place  of  perfect  tranquillity,  where  every  soul  must 
go  and  remain  till  the  day  of  judgment,  in  spite  of  the  de- 
claration made  by  Jesus  Christ  to  the  converted  thief,  that 
he  would  be  that  very  day  in  heaven  with  him;  and  several 
otners  which  we  examined  together.  After  all  this,  you 
should  have  informed  your  friends  that  you  had  embraced 
another  persuasion;  but  you  should  never  have  consulted 
them  whether  you  were  to  do  it.  Your  inquiry  is  reduced 
to  this : — '  Do  you  advise  me  to  continue  in  that  which  I  am 


132  THE    LIFE    OF 

convinced  is  wrong,  or  very  suspicious  ?'  I  tremble  for  you, 
but  I  tremble  also  for  myself.  I  fear  that  an  imprudent 
confidence  in  your  apparent  firmness  may  be  placed  to  my 
account.  Perhaps  a  secret  pride  made  me  trust  in  the  power 
of  my  persuasions.  The  vanity  of  giving  a  proof  to  your 
friends  that  your  change  of  religion  could  not  be  imputed  to 
surprise  made  me  prefer  your  delaying  your  act  of  retracta- 
tion. I  consider  myself  guilty  of  all  this,  and  can  only  plead 
a  sort  of  good  intention. 

"  I  had  already  told  you  that,  while  all  your  divines  ad- 
mit that  a  Roman  Catholic  may  be  saved,  you  need  not 
trouble  yourself;  you  were  at  any  rate  equally  safe.  But 
you  know  that  our  doctrine  does  not  admit  of  reciprocity. 
As  I  have  explained  to  you  the  motives,  I  need  not  repeat 
them.  This  only  I  say,  that,  independent  of  that  infallibility 
which  must  be  the  characteristic  of  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ,  if  we  allow  any  to  exist,  the  decisions  of  the  Catholio 
Church  as  a  mere  civil  body  cannot  be  despised.  Consider 
the  number  of  its  members,  their  reputation  in  all  ages  for 
talents  and  sanctity,  the  conformity  of  their  sentiments,  the 
antiquity  of  its  establishment,  and  compare  to  it  the  youth 
of  the  Protestant  world,  the  infinite  variety  of  the  doctrine 
preached  by  its  greatest  men,  the  contracted  number  of  its 
followers,  their  acknowledgment  of  being  subject  to  error, 
(though  they  pretend  not  to  err  in  fact;)  and  decide  if  you 
can  be  tranquil  on  this  most  important  point.  Every  man 
who  tells  me  that  the  Church  he  advises  me  to  become  a 
member  of  is  not  infallible  tells  me  in  substance  that  I  may 
be  led  into  error.  With  this  declaration  I  have  not  even  hia 
word  for  security.  By  his  declaration  that  his  Church  is  not 
infallible  he  has  warned  me  of  the  danger.  Can  you  b« 
tranquil  in  such  a  persuasion  ?  I  should  not  believe  you,  if 
you  were  to  answer  in  the  affirmative. 

'  Should  you  propose  these  difficulties  to  your  divines,  (as 


MRS     £.   A.   SETON.  133 

you  have  such  a  propensity  to  prefer  their  advice  to  the  light 
you  have  received,)  and  they  should  for  convenience  sake 
say  that  they  do  not  admit  that  a  Catholic  may  be  saved,  or 
that  they  confess  that  the  Protestant  Church  is  infallible, 
I  shall  give  you  proofs  to  the  contrary. 

"As  examples  are  sometimes  more  persuasive  than  rea- 
soning, I  enclose  you  a  copy  of  the  declaration  of  the  Duchess 
of  York  She  was  in  your  same  situation,  but  she  was  mor* 
faithful  to  grace. 

•  •"  <  What  must  I  do,  my  dear  Filicchi  ?'  I  hear  you  say 
Pray, — pray  incessantly,  pray  with  fervor,  and  with  con- 
fidence. Be  sincere  in  your  wish  to  know  the  truth  and 
firm  in  your  resolution  to  follow  it.  Never  think  of  the  con- 
sequences for  what  relates  to  your  situation  and  family  affairs. 
There  is  a  Providence.  Let  therefore  prayer  be  your  only 
adviser.  Abandon  all  others,  if  you  believe  me.  You  can- 
not ask  without  something  being  given  you;  you  cannot 
knock  and  find  the  door  always  shut;  you  cannot  seek,  never 
to  find.  Sincerity,  confidence,  and  perseverance  in  prayer, 
calmness  and  tranquillity  in  mind,  courage  and  resolution 
in  heart,  a  perfect  resignation  to  Providence, — you  cannot 
fail  to  succeed.  Avoid  the  labyrinth  of  controversies.  They 
will  not  make  you  wiser.  »  . 

"  In  the  paper  I  gave  you,  I  only  set  down  what  was  ne- 
cessary for  you  to  know.  I  did  not  pretend  to  answer  all 
the  difficulties  started  at  different  times  by  Protestants.  I 
know  them,  and  could  have  answered  them,  but  my  work 
would  have  been  swelled  to  an  immense  size,  and  I  had  no 
time  for  it.  Had  I  explained  the  futility  of  the  objections 
you  point  out,  I  would  not  have  improved  much,  because 
they  would  have  started  many  others.  It  is  easy  to  create 
difficulties  when  you  lose  sight  of  the  main  point.  Is  there 
any  thing  more  certain  than  the  existence  of  God  ?  Still 

an  atheist  will  tire  out  the  patience  of  the  most  learned,  by 
12 


134  THE    LIFE    Of 

the  difficulties  lie  can  start  in  pretending  to  support  his 
opinion  It  is  impossible  to  follow  any  man  in  the  discus- 
sion of  separate  controversies.  The  sectaries  of  all  deno- 
minations will  always  avoid  discussing  the  main  point.  They 
will  constantly  lose  sight  of  it  to  introduce  other  questions. 
"  May  you  be  wise  enough  to  see  the  snares  and  avoid 
them !  I  will  say  no  more.  God  bless  you. 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"  PHILIP  FILICCHI." 

"LEGHORN,  Dec.  18,  1804. 

"DEAR  MADAM: — 

"  The  moment  I  received  your  letter  of  the  29th  July,  1 
wrote  you  a  few  hasty  lines,  endeavoring  to  ease  your  mind 
and  to  set  aright  your  conscience.  I  promised  you  that  by  the 
return  of  the  Mercury  I  would  have  cleared  all  your  doubts, 
or  rather  shown  you  the  falsehood  of  the  arguments  made 
use  of  by  our  opponents  to  disturb  you  from  the  determina- 
tion of  embracing  the  Catholic  faith.  Little  I  thought  then 
that  the  yellow  fever,  which  has  visited  us,  would  rob  me  of 
the  moments  I  intended  to  devote  to  this  task.  This  sick- 
ness, which  alarmed  our  people  and  made  almost  a  desert  of 
this  city  by  the  great  emigration  it  caused,  induced  the 
government  to  establish  a  board  of  health.  I  was  pointed 
out  as.  a  member.  I  would  not  refuse  to  lend  my  assistance; 
and  the  services  I  have  been  obliged  to  render  have  taken 
up  so  much  of  my  time  (and  you  may  suppose  I  had  not  a 
great  deal  of  it  to  spare)  that  I  am  reduced  to  the  last  day, 
to  the  eve  of  the  Mercury's  departure,  to  attend  to  my  pro- 
mise. I  do  not  despair,  however,  of  success.  »As  words  and 
reasonings  are  of  no  avail  if  the  grace  of  God  does  not  give 
them  the  power  of  persuading,  as  this  may  be  granted  to  the 
simplest  observations  as  well  as  to  the  most  learned  argu- 
ments, I  trust  that  the  few  remarks  I  have  tried  to  make  will 
b°  supported  with  that  grace  which  I  implore,  and  with 


MRS.    £.    A.    SET  ON.  135 

out  which  a  learned  treatise  would  be  but  the  sound  of  • 
timbrel. 

"  I  shall  answer  your  queries  in  due  succession  : — 

"  First.  They  tell  you  that  the  Protestant  Church  haa 
the  right  succession,  they  (your  clergymen)  having  always 
been  ordained  by  bishops  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
and  that  they  call  themselves  Protestants  because  they  pro- 
tested against  the  errors  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  which  had 
deviated  from  the  primitive  Church — errors  unknown  to  the 
first  four  ages  of  Christianity.  They  admit  therefore — 

"  1.  That  the  true  Church  must  come  in  right  succes- 
sion from  the  apostles  j 

"  2.  That  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  was,  in  the  first 
four  ages,  the  true  Church. 

"3.  That  the  Protestant  Church  conies  directly  from  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church. 

"  You  will  remember,  and  they  have  admitted  it,  that  the 
true  Church  could  not  fall  and  could  not  err.  The  Protest- 
ant Reformation  took  place  in  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
Church  of  Rome  had  fallen  into  error  (according  to  their 
assertions)  since  the  fifth  century,  and  they  omit  to  name 
a  church  that  must  fill  a  space  of  eleven  centuries.  That 
they  might  be  right,  it  would  have  been  necessary  that  their 
protestations  against  the  errors  of  the  Roman  Church  should 
have  taken  place  the  moment  they  appeared,  so  that  they 
might  be  entitled  to  be  considered  as  the  followers  of  truth 
without  deviation  or  interruption,  and  that  we  and  not  they 
might  be  censured  as  having  separated  from  the  general 
Church.  Was  this  the  fact  ?  When  the  Protestants  first 
appeared  and  declared  the  invocation  of  saints  to  be  idola- 
try, confession  an  imposition,  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass  an 
abomination,  the  real  presence  a  superstition,  the  invocation 
of  saints,  confession,  mass,  were  the  avowed  tenets  and  the 
constant  practice  of  the  Church.  Those  very  bishops  who 


136  THE    LIFE    OF 

ordained  the  first  abettors  of  the  Reformation  followed  that 
doctrine,  and  the  first  reformers  themselves  a  few  days  before 
•aid  mass,  heard  confessions,  &c.  If  all  these  things  were 
errors,  the  bishops  who  ordained  them  had  erred — they  (the 
reformers)  had  erred  themselves — the  whole  Church  had 
erred.  The  supposed  existence  of  these  errors  destroys  the 
possibility  of  the  uninterrupted  succession  of  the  tru« 
Church.  It  is  therefore  true,  and  most  true,  as  I  told 
you  before, — viz. :  that  if  they  acknowledged  their  succession 
from  the  Roman  Church,  (a  fact  they  cannot  deny,)  they 
must  confess  that,  if  this  Church  had  erred  for  the  space  of 
eleven  centuries,  it  could  not  be  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  their  very  succession  proves  a  vitiated  origin,  and,  of 
course,  a  false  establishment.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the 
Roman  Church  was  the  true  Church,  it  could  not  err, 
and  the  reformation  of  its  doctrine  was  both  useless  and 
impious. 

"You  will  constantly  observe  that  the  Protestants  are 
very  careful  to  avoid  this  dilemma.  They  will  never  give 
you  a  straight  answer  on  this  subject.  They  will  imme- 
diately change  the  theme,  propose  other  arguments,  and  draw 
your  attention  from  the  principal  point. 

"  They  have  moreover  imposed  on  you,  and  taken  advan- 
tage of  your  ignorance  of  ecclesiastical  history,  when  they 
have  told  you  that  the  first  four  ages  knew  not  and  practised 
not  the  things  they  call  Popish  errors.  I  shall  content  my- 
self with  exposing  the  infidelity  of  their  accounts  in  a  few 
instances.  They  will  then  be  considered  by  you  as  false 
guides,  and  the  little  I  shall  say  will  be  sufficient  to  enlighten 
you,  if  God  grants  power  to  my  pen. 

"  Your  clergymen  abominate  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass. 
St.  Justin,  who  lived  about  fifty  years  after  the  death  of  the 
apostle  St.  John,  praises  the  sacrifice  of  the  Eucharist,  and 
•ays  that  it  was  offered  by  Christians  throughout  the  world 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  13T 

"St.  Irenaous  disciple  of  St.  Polycarp,  who  had  been 
disciple  of  the  apostle  St.  John,  bears  the  same  witness. 

"  Tertullian,  who  lived  in  the  second  age,  assures  us  that 
the  sacrifice  was  offered  among  Christians  for  the  health  and 
preservation  of  the  emperors.  •  In  advising  women  to  retire- 
ment, he  says,  that  to  visit  the  sick,  to  assist  at  the  sacrifice, 
and  to  hear  the  word  of  God,  were  the  only  motives  that 
should  induce  them  to  go  out  of  their  houses.  He  assures 
us  that  the  sacrifice  was  offered  for  the  dead,  the  anniversary 
day  of  their  death. 

*"  St.  Cyprian,  who  lived  in  the  third  age,  declares  that 
the  practice  of  offering  the  sacrifice  for  the  dead  was  general 
and  ancient. 

%"  You  see  therefore  that  the  doctrine  relative  to  the  sacri- 
fice and  to  purgatory  was  known  and  admitted  before  the 
fifth  age. 

»"  The  Liturgy  of  the  Church  of  Jerusalem,  which  is  at- 
tributed to  St.  James,  is  worded  thus  : — '  Grant,  0  God,  that 
our  oblation  may  be  found  acceptable  and  sanctified  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  for  the  propitiation  of  our  sins  and  for  the  re- 
pose of  those  who  departed  before  us.'  The  Liturgies  of 
the  Churches  of  Constantinople,  Alexandria,  and  Ethiopia, 
are  framed  nearly  in  the  same  words. 

• "  Tertullian,  who  lived  in  the  second  age,  deplores  the 
blindness  of  those  Christians  who  did  not  confess  their  sins 
through  shame.  Here  is  therefore  another  essential  point 
of  belief  known  to  the  primitive  Church  and  combated  by 
your  reformers. 

"  You  see  therefore  that  you  cannot  trust  their  veracity. 
I  am  surprised  that  you  did  not  perceive  the  weakness  ol 
their  cause  by  their  own  reasonings. 

»"  They  cannot  deny  that  their  reformation  took  place  in 
the  sixteenth  century.     To  prove  their  mission,  they  claim 
their  succession  from  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.     They 
12* 


138  THE    LIFE    Off 

admit  that  Jesus  Christ  kept  his  word  not  to  abandou  hi* 
Church,  and  still  they  pretend  to  belong  to  the  true  one,  in 
consequence  of  their  succession  from  that  which,  according 
to  their  declaration,  had  deviated  from  truth  since  the  fourth 
century.  What  monstrous  reasoning  ! 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Seton,  keep  well  in  mind  the  following 
argument,  and  do  not  trouble  your  head  with  controversies. 

"  All  Christians  admit  that  Jesus  Christ  has  established 
a  Church,  and  that  he  would  be  with  it  to  the  end  of  time. 
St.  Paul  calls  it  the  column  of  firmness  and  of  truth. 

"  There  must,  therefore  be  a  true  Church,  and  this  must 
be  as  ancient  as  Christianity  itself. 

"All  our  endeavors  must  be  to  find  which,  among  the 
Christian  societies  that  claim  the  privilege,  is  the  true 
Church. 

»  "  When  we  have  found  it  we  need  no  longer  study.    Let 
us  believe  what  she  teaches,  as  the  true  Church  cannot  err. 

"  New  institutions  cannot  pretend  to  the  above  privilege. 
If  to  obtain  it  they  claim  succession  from  another  Church, 
the  argument  must  be  this  : — 

"  Either  the  Church  you  proceed  from  was  true,  or  false 
If  true,  you  were  wrong  to  change  her  doctrine ;  if  false, 
you  are  false  yourselves. 

"  Right  succession  and  innovation  are  contradictory 
things. 

"  The  study  of  religion  cannot  be  difficult.  It  must  b« 
adapted  to  the  talents  of  all.  Controversies  do  no  good. 

"  Your  clergymen  will  always  endeavor  to  keep  your 
attention  from  the  above  principles,  and  to  throw  you  into 
the  labyrinth  of  controversies.  If  they  succeed  to  throw 
confusion  in  your  mind  they  have  gained  the  battle.  You 
will  be  neither  Catholic  nor  Protestant.  They  do  not  car* 
•  farthing  about  it,  provided  you  be  not  a  Catholic 

"As  to  what  they  have  said  respecting  councils  and  theii 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  139 

contradictions,  you  will  observe  that  as  thete  have  been  at 
times  two  popes,  one  legal  and  one  illegal,  so  there  have 
been  legal  and  illegal  councils.  These  must  have  been 
wrong,  the  others  right.  They  could  not  therefore  possibly 
agree ;  and  the  general  Church,  in  admitting  those,  has  re- 
fused to  acknowledge  the  others.  The  treatise  I  gave  you 
about  the  infallibility  of  the  Church  will  show  you  where 
Infallibility  resides. 

"  I  hope  to  have  fairly  answered  all  your  questions.  E 
wish  I  could  be  near  you.  I  would  keep  my  .word  to  clear 
your  doubts.  With  the  help  of  Grod,  I  would  not  fear  the 
learned  arguments  of  your  divines,  without  being  a  divine 
myself. 

"  I  am,  with  perfect  esteem, 

"  Your  humble  servant  and  affectionate  friend, 

"  PHILIP  FELICCHI  " 

While  Mr.  Filicchi  was  thus  manifesting  his  friendly  and 
pious  zeal  in  behalf  of  Mrs.  Seton,  she  was  an  object  of 
equal  solicitude  on  the  part  of  his  brother  in  America 
We  have  seen  that  while  in  New  York  he  visited  her  fre- 
quently, and  when  his  affairs  called  him  to  Boston,  he 
opened  a  correspondence  with  her,  the  main  object  of  which 
was  the  promotion  of  her  spiritual  welfare.  His  letters 
breathed  a  spirit  of  the  warmest  and  most  exalted  friend- 
ship, which,  although  viewing  her  religious  enlightenment 
as  the  highest  consideration,  did  not  overlook,  as  we  have 
seen,  her  temporal  happiness.  He  counselled  her  in  her 
doubts  and  consoled  her  in  her  trials.  Writing  from  Bos- 
ton, November  7,  1804,  he  says :— ^"  Fight,  my  worthy 
friend  ;  pray  without  ceasing.  The  merciful  Redeemer  of 
as  all  will  at  last  come  to  your  relief,  wipe  away  your  tears, 
eialt  your  humility,  reward  your  fortitude."  He  might 
well  address  her  in  this  language  under  the  weight  of  suffer 


140  THE    LIFE    Of 

Ing  which  then  oppressed  her  soul.  The  inists  that  stil 
clouded  her  mind  on  the  subject  of  religion  would  alone 
have  sufficed  to  throw  a  sensitive  and  devout  spirit  like  hers 
into  a  state  of  cruel  anguish.  But,  in  addition  to  this,  she 
was  met  with  coldness  and  indifference  hy  some  of  her  rela- 
tions and  former  friends,  who  could  not  brook  the  idea  of 
her  hesitating  in  the  preference  of  Protestantism  to  Catho- 
licity. For  a  lady  of  Mrs.  Seton's  social  standing,  and  one 
who  had  enjoyed  every  comfort  of  life  before  the  loss  of  her 
husband,  this  persecution  would  have  been  a  very  serious 
obstacle  to  her  conversion,  had  she  not  possessed  a  singular 
firmness,  and  been  actuated  by  the  purest  and  most  elevated 
intentions.  But  her  object  was  to  place  herself  and  her 
children  in  the  true  way  of  salvation,  and  convinced,  a* 
our  Lord  declares  in  the  gospel,  that  "  it  will  profit  a  man 
nothing  to  gain  the  whole  world  if  he  lose  his  own  soul," 
she  was  willing  to  sacrifice  the  advantages  of  this  earth  for 
that  peace  and  eternal  happiness  which  the  world  cannot 
give.  By  frequent  recourse  to  prayer  and  spiritual  read- 
ing she  supported  herself  under  these  trials,  hoping  that 
the  Almighty  would  at  length  regard  the  sincerity  of  her 
heart,  and  dispel  the  clouds  that  still  hovered  over  her 
mind.  Writing  to  a  friend  at  this  time,  she  thus  describes 
her  peculiar  situation  and  the  cause  that  produced  it : — 

"  On  arriving  home  (from  Italy)  I  was  assailed  on  the 
eulject  of  religion  by  the  clergy,  who  talked  of  antichrist, 
idolatry,  and  urged  objections  in  torrents,  which,  though 
not  capable  of  changing  the  opinions  I  had  adopted,  have 
terrified  me  enough  to  keep  me  in  a  state  of  hesitation ; 
and  I  am  thus  in  the  hands  of  God,  praying  night  and  day 
for  his  divine  light,  which  can  alone  direct  me  aright.  I 
Instruct  my  children  in  the  Catholic  religion,  without  taking 
any  decided  step ;  my  heart  is  in  that  faith,  and  it  is  my 


MRS.    E.    A     SETOH.  141 

greatest  coinf  jrt  to  station  myself  in  imagination  in  a  Ca- 
tholic church." 

%  They  who  are  acquainted  with  the  various,  sometimes 
mysterious,  difficulties  that  haunt  the  mind  in  its  progress 
from  error  to  truth,  will  readily  comprehend  that  the  Catho- 
lic faith  preponderated  in  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Seton,  while 
she  was  held  back  by  a  certain  obscurity  still  lingering  upon 
the  subject,  and  which  we  may  believe  to  have  been  per- 
mitted  by  the  Almighty,  either  as  a  punishment  of  the 
rash  exposure  of  faith,  or  as  a  means  of  testing  the  fidelity 
and  increasing  the  merits  of  his  servant.  She  had  no  need 
of  further  discussion  or  investigation  in  regard  to  the  true 
Church.  From  the  very  first  opposition  that  she  had  met 
with  on  the  part  of  hsr  friends  in  America,  she  entered 
profoundly  into  the  examination  of  the  question;  author 
was  read  after  author ;  the  texts  referred  to  her  considera- 
tion were  weighed  on  her  knees  and  with  constant  tears ; 
and  when  she  was  told  by  her  relations  that  her  strong 
belief  in  Catholic  doctrine  was  a  temptation,  she  doubled 
against  the  enemy  of  her  soul  the  most  effectual  weapons 
in  the  spiritual  conflict,  humility,  prayer,  and  fasting ;  she 
therefore  had  employed  all  the  ordinary  means  for  inform- 
ing herself  correctly  upon  the  subject  of  religious  truth; 
and  if  she  still  was  prevented,  by  a  certain  feeling  of  diffi- 
dence or  dread,  from  being  fully  influenced  by  the  power- 
ful motives  which  she  possessed  for  embracing  the  Catholic 
communion,  it  was  a  trial  which  God  permitted  for  his 
greater  glory  and  the  more  decided  benefit  of  her  soul. 
Her  only  resource  was  to  pray,  to  knock  at  the  door  of 
divine  mercy,  until  it  should  please  the  Almighty  to  shed 
upon  her  the  rays  of  his  heavenly  light. 

The  letters  of  Mrs.  Seton  which  we  have  placed  befort 
the  reader  present  a  lively  picture  of  her  distressing  situa- 
tion ;  but  it  may  be  interesting  to  enter  more  fully  into  her 


142  THE     LIFE    Of 

thoughts,  and  to  consider  the  reasoning  by  which  she  re- 
butted the  arguments  of  her  Protestant  friends.  It  will 
serve  to  show  the  powerful  hold  of  Catholic  principles  OB 
her  mind  and  heart,  and  the  steady  action  of  divine  grace 
in  drawing  her  to  the  true  faith.  During  the  painfui 
struggle  of  her  soul  from  the  month  of  July,  1804,  to  the 
end  of  the  year,  she  wrote  several  letters  to  her  friend,  Mrs. 
Amabilia  Filicchi,  of  Leghorn,  in  which  she  expresses  hei 
sentiments  with  equal  simplicity  and  force. 

"July. 

"I  had,"  she  says,  "a  most  affectionate  note  from  Mr. 
Hobart  to-day,  asking  me  how  I  could  ever  think  of  leaving 
the  Church  in  which  I  was  baptized.  But,  though  what- 
ever he  says  to  me  has  the  weight  of  my  partiality  for  him, 
as  well  as  the  respect  it  seems  to  me  I  could  scarcely  have 
for  any  one  else,  yet  that  question  made  me  smile ;  for  it  is 
like  saying  that  wherever  a  child  is  born,  and  wherever  its 
parents  place  it,  there  it  will  find  the  truth — and  he  does 
not  hear  the  droll  invitations  made  me  every  day,  since  I 
am  in  my  little  new  home,  and  old  friends  come  to  see  me ; 
for  it  has  already  happened  that  one  of  the  most  excellent 
women  I  ever  knew,  who  is  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  find- 
ing me  unsettled  about  the  great  object  of  a  true  faith,  said 
to  me,  '  Oh  do,  dear  soul !  come  and  hear  our  J.  Mason, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  join  us.'  A  little  after,  came  one 
whom  I  loved  for  the  purest  and  most  innocent  manners, 
of  the  Society  of  Quakers,  (to  which  I  have  been  always  at- 
tached ;)  she  coaxed  me  too  with  artless  persuasion : — '  Betsey, 
I  tell  thee,  thee  had  better  come  with  us.'  And  my  faithful 

old  friend  of  the  Anabaptist  meeting,  Mrs.  T ,  says, 

with  tears  in  her  eyes,  'Oh,  could  you  be  regenerated, 
could  you  know  our  experiences  and  enjoy  with  us  our 
heavenly  banquet !'  And  my  good  old  Mary,  the  Methodist, 
groaui  and  contemplates,  as  she  calls  it,  over  my  soul,  so 


MRS.    E.    A.    8  ETON.  143 

misled  because  I  have  yet  no  convictions.  But,  oh  my 
Father  and  ray  God !  all  that  will  not  do  for  me.  Your 
word  is  truth  and  without  contradiction,  wherever  it  is. 
One  faith,  one  hope,  one  baptism  I  look  for,  wherever  it  is ; 
and  I  often  think  my  sins,  my  miseries,  hide  the  light ;  yet 
I  will  cling  and  hold  to  my  God  to  the  last  gasp,  begging 
for  that  light,  and  never  change  until  I  find  it." 

"  August. 

"There  is  a  sad  weariness  now  over  life  I  never  before 
was  tried  with.  My  lovely  children  round  their  writing- 
table,  or  round  our  evening  fire,  make  me  forget  a  little  this 
unworthy  dejection,  which  arises,  I  believe,  from  continual 
application  of  mind  to  these  multiplied  books  brought  for 
my  instruction ;  above  all,  Newton's  Prophecies.  Your 
poor  friend,  though,  is  not  so  easily  troubled  as  to  the  facts 
it  dwells  on,  because  it  may  or  may  not  be ;  but,  living  all 
my  days  in  the  thought  that  all  and  everybody  would  be 
saved  who  meant  well,  it  grieves  my  very  soul  to  see  that 
Protestants,  as  well  as  your  (as  I  thought)  hard  and  severe 
principles,  see  the  thing  so  differently — since  this  book,  so 
valued  by  them,  sends  all  followers  of  the  Pope  to  the  bot- 
tomless pit,  &c. ;  and  it  appears  by  the  account  made  of 
them  from  the  apostles'  time,  that  a  greater  part  of  the 
world  must  be  already  there  at  any  rate.  Oh  my !  the  wor- 
shipper of  images  and  the  man  of  sin  are  different  enough 
from  the  beloved  souls  I  knew  in  Leghorn,  to  ease  my  mind 
on  that  point,  since  I  so  well  knew  what  you  worshipped, 
my  Amabilia;  but  yet,  so  painful  and  sorrowful  an  im- 
pression is  left  on  my  heart,  it  is  all  clouded  and  troubled. 
Sc  I  say  the  penitential  psalms,  if  not  with  the  spirit  of  the 
royal  prophet,  at  least  with  his  tears,  which  truly  mix  with 
the  food  and  water  the  couch  of  your  poor  friend,  yet  with 
such  confidence  in  God,  that  it  seems  to  me  he  never  was 
•0  truly  my  Father  and  my  all  at  any  moment  of  my  life. 


144  THE    LIFE    OF 

Anna  coaxes  me,  when  we  are  at  our  evening  prayers,  to 
gay,  Hail,  Mary!  and  all  say,  'Oh  do,  ma,  teach  it  to  us !' 
Even  little  Rebecca  tries  to  lisp  it,  though  she  can  scarcely 
speak ;  and  I  ask  my  Saviour,  why  should  we  not  say  it  ? 
If  any  one  is  in  heaven,  his  mother  must  be  there.  Are  the 
angels,  then,  who  are  so  often  represented  as  being  so  in- 
terested for  us  on  earth,  more  compassionate,  more  exalted, 
than  she  is  ?  Oh,  no,  no  !  Mary,  our  Mother,  that  cannot 
be.  So  I  beg  her,  with  the  confidence  and  tenderness  of 
her  child,  to  pity  us  *»nd  guide  us  to  the  true  faith,  if  we 
are  not  in  it ;  and,  if  we  are,  to  obtain  peace  for  my  poor 
eoul,  that  I  may  be  a  good  mother  to  my  poor  darlings ;  for 
I  know  if  God  should  leave  me  to  myself  after  all  my  sins, 
he  would  be  justified ;  and  since  I  read  these  books,  my 
head  is  quite  bewildered  about  the  few  that  are  saved ;  so 
I  kiss  her  picture  you  gave  me,  and  beg  her  to  be  a  mother 
to  me." 

"September. 

"Your  Antonio  would  not  have  been  well  pleased  to  see 
me  in  St.  Paul's  (Protestant  Episcopal)  Church  to-day;  but 
peace  and  persuasion  about  proprieties,  &c.  over-prevailed  : 
yet  I  got  in  a  side  pew,  which  turned  my  face  toward  the 
Catholic  Church,  in  the  next  street,  and  found  myself 
twenty  times  speaking  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament  there,  in- 
stead of  looking  at  the  naked  altar  where  I  was,  or  minding 
the  routine  of  prayers.  Tears  plenty,  and  sighs  as  siient 
and  deep  as  when  I  first  entered  your  blessed  Church  of  the 
Annunciation  in  Florence — all  turning  to  the  one  only  de- 
sire, to  see  the  way  most  pleasing  to  my  God,  whichever 
that  way  is.  Mr.  Hobart  says,  '  How  can  you  believe  that 
there  are  as  many  Gods  as  there  are  millions  of  altars  and 
tens  of  millions  of  blessed  hosts  all  over  the  world  ?'  Again 
I  can  but  smile  at  t:s  earnest  words;  for  the  whole  of  my 
cogitations  about  it  are  reduced  to  one  thought: — 'It  ii 


MRS.    E.   A.    8ETON.  146 

GOD  who  does  it — the  same  God  who  fed  so  many  thousanda 
with  the  little  barley-loaves  and  little  fishes,  multiplying 
them,  of  course,  in  the  hands  which  distributed  them.' 
The  thought  stops  not  a  moment  to  me ;  I  look  straight  at 
my  God,  and  see  that  nothing  is  so  very  hard  to  believe  in 
it,  since  it  is  HE  who  does  it.  Years  ago,  I  read  in  some 
old  book,  'When  you  say  a  thing  is  a  mystery  and  you  do 
not  understand  it,  you  say  nothing  against  the  mystery 
itself,  but  only  acknowledge  your  limited  knowledge  and 
comprehension,  which  does  not  understand  a  thousand 
things  you  must  yet  own  to  be  true.'  And  so  often  it 
comes  in  my  head,  if  the  religion  which  gives  to  the  world 
(at  least  to  so  great  a  part  of  it)  the  heavenly  consolations 
attached  to  the  belief  of  the  presence  of  God  in  the  Blessed 
Sacrament,  to  be  the  food  of  the  poor  wanderers  in  the  de- 
sert of  this  world,  as  well  as  the  manna  was  the  support  of 
the  Israelites  through  the  wilderness  to  their  Canaan ;  if 
this  religion,  says  your  poor  friend,  is  the  work  or  con- 
trivance of  men  and  priests,  as  they  say,  then  God  seems 
not  as  earnest  for  our  happiness  as  these  contrivers,  nor  to 

*love  us,  though  the  children  of  redemption  and  bought 
with  the  precious  blood  of  his  dear  Son,  as  much  as  he  did 
the  children  of  the  old  Law ;  since  he  leaves  our  churches 
with  nothing  but  naked  walls,  and  our  altars  unadorned 
with  either  the  ark  which  his  presence  filled,  or  any  of  the 

i  precious  pledges  of  his  care  for  us,  which  he  gave  to  those 
of  old.  They  tell  me  I  must  worship  him  now  in  spirit  and 
in  truth ;  but  my  poor  spirit  very  often  goes  to  sleep,  or 
roves  about  like  an  idler,  for  want  of  something  to  fix  ite 
attention ;  and  for  the  truth,  dearest  Amabilia,  I  think  I 
feel  more  true  union  of  heart  and  soul  with  him  over  a  pic- 
ture of  the  crucifixion  I  found  years  ago  in  my  father's 

'portfolio,  than  in  the ;  but  what  I  was  going  to  say 

would  be  folly,  for  truth  does  not  depend  on  the  people 
IS  K 


146  THE    LIFE    OF 

around  us,  or  the  place  we  are  in.  I  can  only  say,  1  do 
long  and  desire  to  worship  our  God  in  truth;  and  if  I  had 
never  met  you  Catholics,  and  yet  should  have  read  the 
books  Mr.  Hobart  has  brought  me,  they  would  have  in 
themselves  brought  a  thousand  uncertainties  and  doubts  to 
my  mind;  and  these  soften  my  heart  so  much  before  God, 
in  the  certainty  bow  much  be  must  pity  me,  knowing,  aa 
he  does,  the  whole  and  sole  bent  of  my  soul  is  to  please 
him  only,  and  get  close  to  him  in  this  life  and  the  next, 
that  in  the  midnight  hour,  believe  me,  I  often  look  up  at 
the  walls  through  the  tears  and  distress  that  overpower  me, 
expecting  rather  to  see  his  finger  writing  on  the  wall  for 
my  relief,  than  that  he  will  forsake  or  abandon  so  poor  a 
creature." 

"  November. 

"  I  do  not  get  on,  Amabilia ;  cannot  cast  the  balance  for 
the  peace  of  this  poor  soul ;  but  it  suffers  plenty,  and  the 
body  too.  I  say  daily,  with  great  confidence  of  being  one 
*day  heard,  the  119th  Psalm,  never  weary  of  repeating  it, 
and  reading  h,  Kempis,  who,  by  the  way,  was  a  Catholic 
writer,  and,  as  our  Protestant  preface  says,  'wonderfully 
versed  in  the  knowledge  of  the  Holy  Scriptures;'  and  I 
read  much,  too,  of  St  Francis  de  Sales,  so  earnest  for  bring- 
ing all  to  the  bosom  of  the  Catholic  Church ;  and  I  say  to 
myself,  Will  I  ever  know  better  how  to  please  God  than 
they  did  ?  and  down  I  kneel  to  pour  my  tears  to  them,  and 
beg  them  to  obtain  faith  for  me.  »Then  I  see  faith  is  a  gift 
of  God,  to  be  diligently  sought  and  earnestly  desired,  and 
groan  to  him  for  it  in  silence,  since  our  Saviour  says  I  can- 
not come  to  him  unless  the  Father  draw  me.  So  it  is ;  by- 
and-by,  I  trust,  this  storm  will  cease — how  painful  and 
Dften  agonizing  He  only  knows  who  can  and  will  still  .t  in 

his  own  good  time.     Mrs.  S ,  my  long-tried  friend, 

•bserved  to  me  this  morning  that  I  had  penance  enough 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  147 

without  seeking  it  among  Catholics.  True ;  but  we  bear 
all  the  pain  without  the  merit.  Yet  I  do  try  sincerely  to 
turn  all  mine  for  account  of  my  soul.  I  was  telling  her  I 
hoped  the  more  I  suffered  in  this  life  the  more  I  hoped  to 
be  spared  in  the  next,  as  I  believed  God  would  accept  my 
pains  in  atonement  for  my  sins.  She  said,  '  that  was  in- 
deed very  comfortable  doctrine ;'  she  wished  she  could  be- 
lieve it.  Indeed,  it  is  all  my  comfort,  dearest  Amabilia, 
worn  out  now  to  a  skeleton,  almost  death  may  now  overtake 
me  in  the  struggle.  But  God  himself  must  finish  it. 

"  Would  you  believe,  Amabilia — in  a  desperation  of  heart 
I  went  last  Sunday  to  St.  George's  (Protestant  Episcopal) 
Church.  The  wants  and  necessities  of  my  soul  were  so  press- 
ing that  I  looked  straight  up  to  God,  and  I  told  him,  Since 
I  cannot  see  the  way  to  please  you  whom  alone  I  wish  to 
please,  every  thing  is  indifferent  to  me ;  and  until  you  do 
show  me  the  way  you  mean  me  to  walk  in,  I  will  trudge  on 
in  the  path  you  suffered  me  to  be  born  in,  and  go  even  to 
the  very  sacrament  where  I  once  used  to  find  you.  So 
away  I  went,  my  old  Mary  happy  to  take  care  of  the  chil- 
dren for  me  once  more  until  I  came  back ;  but  if  I  left  the 
house  a  Protestant  I  returned  to  it  a  Catholic,  I  think,  since 
I  determined  to  go  no  more  to  the  Protestants,  being  much 
more  troubled  than  ever  I  thought  I  could  be  while  I  re- 
membered God  is  my  God.  But  so  it  was,  that  the  bowing 
of  my  heart  before  the  bishop  to  receive  his  absolution, 
which  is  given  publicly  and  universally  to  all  in  the  church 
— I  had  not  the  least  faith  in  his  prayers,  and  looked  for  an 
apostolic  loosing  from  my  sins,  which,  by  the  books  Mr. 
Hobart  had  given  me  to  read  I  find  they  do  not  claim  or 
admit, — then,  trembling  to  communion,  half  dead  with  the 
inward  struggle ;  when  they  said,  ( the  body  and  blood  of 
Christ,'  oh,  Amabilia,  no  words  for  my  trial !  And  I  re- 
member, in  my  old  prayer-book  of  former  edition,  when  I 


148  THE    LIFE    OF 

was  a  child,  it  was  not,  as  now,  said  to  be  spiritually  take  a 
and  received ;  however,  to  get  thoughts  away,  I  took  the 
Daily  Exercise  of  good  Abbe"  Plunkett,  to  read  the  prayers 
after  communion ;  but  finding  every  word  addressed  to  our 
dear  Saviour  as  really  present,  I  became  half  crazy,  and  for 
the  first  time  could  not  bear  the  sweet  caresses  of  the  dar- 
lings or  bless  their  little  dinner.  Oh,  my  God,  that  day  I 
but  it  finished  calmly  at  last,  abandoning  all  to  God,  and  a 
renewed  confidence  in  the  Blessed  Virgin,  whose  mild  and 
peaceful  look  reproached  my  bold  excesses,  and  reminded 
me  to  fix  my  heart  above  with  better  hopes." 

Such  was  the  resolution  which,  aided  by  the  grace  of 
God,  was  to  be  a  source  of  light  and  peace  to  the  troubled 
soul  of  Mrs.  Seton — to  abandon  a.'  to  him  and  rely  upon 
the  declarations  of  his  holy  word.  Her  mind  had  been 
BO  harassed  with  doubt,  so  cruelly  agitated  by  conflicting 
thoughts  and  ineffectual  attempts  to  discover  the  true  faith, 
that  she  had  formed  the  desperate  purpose  of  embracing  nc 
particular  form  of  Christianity  until  the  hour  of  death;  but 
God  was  watching  over  her,  to  withdraw  her  feet  from  the 
brink  of  the  precipice.  On  the  feast  of  the  Epiphany,  th« 
office  of  which  commemorates  the  homage  paid  by  the  Wise 
Men  to  the  infant  Saviour  of  mankind,  she  took  up  a  ser 
mon  of  Bourdaloue  on  that  subject,  which,  alluding  to  the 
inquiry  made  by  those  Eastern  sages  among  the  priests 
and  doctors  of  the  law,  "Where  is  he  who  is  born  Bang  of 
the  Jews  ?"  observes,  that  when  we  no  longer  discern  the 
star  of  faith,  we  must  seek  it  where  alone  it  is  to  be  found, 
among  the  depositaries  of  the  divine  word,  the  pastors  of 
the  Church.  This  suggestion,  with  the  blessing  of  God, 
produced  the  most  salutary  impression  on  her  mind.  She 
at  once  resolved  to  consult  again  those  books  on  the  Catho- 
lic faith  which  had  originally  won  her  to  it,  and  she  endea- 
vored also  to  obtain  an  interview  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  O'Brien, 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON  149 

pastor  of  St.  Peter's  Church.  Failing,  however,  in  this, 
and  ardently  desirous  of  receiving  direction  from  the  minis- 
ters of  God,  she  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Rev.  John  Che- 
verus,  then  assistant  pastor  of  the  Catholic  Church  in 

*  Boston.*  In  vain  did  those  around  her  attempt  to  influ- 
ence her  by  worldly  considerations.  Writing  to  a  friend  at 
this  time,  she  says  that  Catholics  in  New  York  were  repre- 
eented  as  "  the  offscourings  of  the  people,"  and  the  congre- 
gation said  to  be  "a  public  nuisance;"  "but,"  she  adds, 
"  that  troubles  not  me.  The  congregation  of  a  city  may  be 
very  shabby,  yet  very  pleasing  to  God ;  or  very  bad  people 
among  them,  yet  cannot  hurt  the  faith,  as  I  take  it.  And 
should  the  priest  himself  deserve  no  more  respect  than  is 
here  allowed  him,  his  ministry  of  the  sacraments  would  be 
the  same  to  me,  if  I  ever  shall  receive  them.  *  I  seek  but 
God  and  his  Church,  and  expect  to  find  my  peace  in  them, 
not  in  the  people." 

While  her  mind  was  in  these  happy  dispositions,  she  re- 

.ceived  from  Bishop  Carroll  a  further  evidence  of  the  lively 
interest  which  he  took  in  her  welfare.  In  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Filicchi  he  says  : — "  Though  I  have  heard  no  more  than  is 
contained  in  your  last  concerning  the  most  estimable  lady 
for  whose  situation  and  happiness  you  are  so  much  inte- 
rested, yet  I  have  the  fullest  confidence  that,  after  being  put 
to  the  severe  and  most  distressing  trial  of  interior  darkness, 
doubts,  and  terrors  of  making  a  wrong  step,  our  merciful 
Father  in  heaven  will  soon  send  her  relief,  and  diffuse  light 
and  consolation  in  her  heart.  Among  the  religious  books 
in  her  possession,  I  doubt  not  of  her  having  that  most  ex- 

*  Afterward  first  Bishop  of  that  city,  and,  still  later,  Bishop  of  Mont- 
ftuban,  in  France,  and  Cardinal  Archbishop  of  Bordeaux.  See  his  Life, 
by  the  Rev.  J.  Huen  Dubourg,  translated  from  the  French  by  Robert  M. 
Walsh ;  12ino.,  Philadelphia,  1841.  The  letter  which  Mrs.  Seton  wrot* 
to  Mr.  Cheverus  at  this  interesting  juncture,  and  his  answer,  I  hare  not 
o«en  able  to  discover,  notwithstanding  the  most  diligent  search. 
13* 


150  THE    LIFE    OF 

cellcnt  one,  generally  ascribed  to  Thomas  k  Kempis,  '  Of  the 
1  Following  of  Christ.'  » Recommend  to  her,  when  her  soul  is 
weighed  down  with  trouble  and  anxiety,  to  read  the  ninth 
chapter  of  the  second  book,  entitled  '  Of  the  want  or  ab- 
i  gence  of  every  comfort.'  As  far  as  it  is  in  my  power  to 
judge  of  her  state  of  mind,  from  the  account  of  it  contained 
in  your  letters,  I  do  not  think  it  advisable  for  her  at  present 
to  perplex  herself  with  reading  any  more  controversy.  She 
has  seen  enough  on  that  subject  to  assure  herself  of  the 
true  principles  for  settling  her  faith.  Her  great  business 
now  should  be  to  beseech  our  Divine  Redeemer  to  revive  in 
her  heart  the  grace  of  her  baptism,  and  to  fortify  her  soul 
in  the  resolution  of  following  unreservedly  the  voice  of  God 
speaking  to  her  heart,  however  difficult  and  painful  the  sa- 

*  orifices  may  be  which  it  requires.    Having  confirmed  herself 
in  this  resolution,  it  must  be  to  her  a  matter  of  the  first  im- 
portance to  inspect  the  state  of  her  conscience,  and  judge 
herself  impartially  and  with  the  utmost  sincerity,  divesting 
herself  as  much  as  she  can,  with  the  aid  of  divine  grace,  not 
only  of  every  sinful  attachment,  but  of  every  affection  that 

'has  not  God  for  its  source,  its  motive,  and  its  object.  She 
ought  to  consider  whether  the  tears  she  sheds  and  the  prayers 
she  offers  to  heaven  are  purely  for  God's  sake,  and  arise 
solely  from  compunction  for  sin,  and  are  unmixed  with  any 
alloy  of  worldly  respects  or  inordinate  solicitude  for  the 
attainment  of  some  worldly  purpose.  Indeed,  when  I  read 
the  words  you  copied  from  her  letters,  and  her  letters 
themselves,  I  remain  convinced  of  the  sincerity  of  her  en- 
deavors to  make  herself  conformable  in  all  things  to  the 
divine  will;  but  afterward  a  fear  arises  in  my  mind  that 

*  God  discovers  in  her  some  lurking  imperfection,  and  defer* 
the  final  grace  of  her  conversion  till  her  soul  be  entirely 
purified  of  its  irregular  attachments.  *The  ordinary  course 
of  Providence,  with  respect  to  those  who  are  to  be  tried  by 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  151 

interior  darkness  and  tribulation,  is  to  subject  them  to  it 
after  their  conversion  is  completed;  and  it  often  happens 
that  those  trials  become  highly  useful,  and  dispose  those 
who  are  subject  to  them  to  disclose  with  the  utmost  sincerity 
the  entire  state  of  their  consciences,  all  their  weaknesses, 
and  even  those  imperfections  of  which  formerly  they  made 
no  account,  t  Perhaps,  in  the  case  of  your  most  esteemed 
and  respected  friend,  it  pleases  God  to  suffer  her  to  experi  • 
ence  now,  before  her  open  union  with  his  Church,  those 
agitations  of  conscience  which  will  induce  her  to  perform, 
with  the  greatest  care  and  attention,  all  previous  duties 
necessary  for  her  adoption  into  it." 

Unfortunately,  we  are  not  in  possession  of  the  corre- 
spondence which  passed  between  Mrs.  Seton  and  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Cheverus  at  this  period;  but  we  know  from  other  sources 
of  information  that  the  wise  counsels  of  that  distinguished 
clergyman,  and  the  excellent  advices  of  Bishop  Carroll,  con- 
tributed in  an  eminent  degree,  under  God,  to  dispel  the 
doubts  and  apprehensions  of  her  soul  and  inspire  her  with 
a  fixed  determination  to  seek  admission  into  the  Catholic 
Church.  Her  final  resolution  on  this  important  question, 
and  the  grounds  on  which  it  rested,  are  thus  beautifully 
expressed  in  her  own  words : — 

"Now  they  tell  me,  take  care,  I  am  a  mother,  and  my 
children  I  must  answer  for  in  judgment,  whatever  faith  I 
lead  them  to.  That  being  so,  and  I  so  unconscious,  for  I 
little  thought,  till  told  by  Mr.  Hobart,  that  their  faith  could 
be  so  full  of  consequence  to  them  or  me,  I  will  go  peaceably 
and  firmly  to  the  Catholic  Church;  for,  if  faith  is  so  im- 
'  portant  to  our  salvation,  I  will  seek  it  where  true  faith  first 
began — seek  it  among  those  who  received  it  from  God  him- 
self. The  controversies  on  it  I  am  quite  incapable  of  decid- 
ing; and,  as  the  strictest  Protestant  allows  salvation  to  a  good 
Catholic,  to  the  Catholics  I  will  go,  and  try  to  be  a  good 


152  THE    LIFE    Of 

one.  May  God  accept  my  intention  and  pity  me !  As  to 
supposing  the  word  of  our  Lord  has  failed,  and  that  he  has 
suffered  his  first  foundation  to  be  built  on  by  antichrist,  I 
cannot  stop  on  that  without  stopping  on  every  other  word  of 
our  Lord,  and  being  tempted  to  be  no  Christian  at  all ;  for, 
if  the  first  Church  became  antichrist,  and  the  second  holds 
her  rights  from  it,  then  I  should  be  afraid  both  might  be 
antichrist,  and  I  make  my  way  to  the  bottomless  pit  by  fcl- 
lowing  either.  Come,  then,  my  little  ones,  we  will  go  to 
judgment  together,  and  present  our  Lord  his  own  words; 
and  if  he  says, '  You  fools,  I  did  not  mean  that,'  we  will  say, 
**  Since  you  said  you  would  be  always,  even  to  the  end  of 
ages,  with  this  Church  you  built  with  your  blood,  if  you 
ever  left  it,  it  is  your  word  which  misled  us;  therefore 
please  to  pardon  your  poor  fools,  for  your  own  word's  sake." 
Under  these  convictions,  Mrs.  Seton  applied  without 
delay  to  be  admitted  into  the  "one  fold  under  one  shep- 
herd." «For  this  purpose,  on  the  14th  of  March,  Ash- Wed- 
nesday, she  went  to  St.  Peter's  Church,  in  a  spirit  of  entire 
consecration  of  herself  to  God.  "  How  the  heart,"  she 
says,  "died  away  as  it  were  in  silence  before  the  little 
tabernacle  and  the  great  crucifixion  over  it !  Ah,  my  God, 
here  let  me  rest,  and  down  the  head  on  the  bosom  and  the 
knees  on  the  bench.  If  I  could  have  thought  of  any  thing 
but  God,  there  was  enough,  I  suppose,  to  have  astonished  a 
stranger  by  the  hurrying  over  of  the  congregation;  but  as  I 
o  me  only  to  visit  his  Majesty,  I  knew  not  what  it  meant 
till  afterward, — that  it  was  a  day  they  received  ashes,  the 
beginning  of  Lent;  and  the  droll  but  most  venerable  Irish 
priest,  who  seems  just  come  there,  talked  of  death  so 
familiarly  that  he  delighted  and  revived  me."  •  After  the 
service,  Mrs.  Seton  made  a  formal  abjuration  of  Protestant- 
ism, ind  profession  of  the  Catholic  faith  at  the  hands  of 
Rev  Matthew  O'Brien,  and  in  presence  of  Mr  Anthony 


MRS.  E.    A.    SETON.  153 

Filicchi,  her  devoted  friend.*  With  the  simplicity  and 
humble  submission  of  a  true  child  of  the  Church,  she  ac- 
knowledged her  belief  in  all  its  teachings,  relying  with  con- 
fidence upon  its  authority  as  the  representative  of  Christ  on 
earth;  and  her  mind  thus  composed,  she  returned  home, 
she  says,  "  light  at  heart  and  cool  of  head,  the  first  time 
these  many  long  months,  but  not  without  begging  our  Lord 
to  wrap  my  heart  deep  in  that  open  side,  so  well  described 
in  the  beautiful  crucifixion,  or  lock  it  up  in  his  little  taber- 
nacle where  I  shall  now  rest  forever.  Oh  the  endearments 
of  this  day  with  the  children,  and  the  play  of  the  heart  with 
God  while  keeping  up  their  little  farces  with  them  I"  Her 
whole  attention  was  now  devoted  to  the  requisite  preparation 
for  the  reception  of  the  sacraments  of  penance  and  the 
holy  Eucharist,  which  were  to  be  the  seal  of  her  peace  and 
union  with  God;  and  we  cannot  better  convey  than  in  her 
own  expressive  language  an  idea  of  the  fervent  disposi- 
tions of  her  soul  in  approaching  these  fountains  of  divine 
grace: — 

"  So  delighted  now  to  prepare  for  this  good  confession, 
which,  bad  as  I  am,  I  would  be  ready  to  make  on  the  house- 
top, to  insure  the  good  absolution  I  hope  for  after  it, — and 
then  to  set  out  a  new  life — a  new  existence  itself — no  great 
difficulty  for  me  to  be  ready  for  it,  for  truly  my  life  has 
been  well  called  over  in  bitterness  of  soul  these  months  of 
sorrow  passed. 

"  It  is  done — easy  enough.  The  kindest,  most  respect- 
able confessor  is  this  Mr.  O'Brien, — with  the  compassion  and 
yet  firmness  in  this  work  of  mercy  which  I  would  have  ex- 

•  In  memory  of  this  joyful  occasion,  Mrs.  Seton  gave  to  Mr.  Filicchi, 
who  had  been  so  instrumental  in  her  conversion,  a  copy  of  the  "  Follow- 
ing of  Christ,"  with  this  inscription: — "Antonio  Filicchi,  from  his  dear 
lister  and  friend,  Eliza  A.  Seton,  to  commemorate  the  happy  day  h< 
(resented  her  to  the  Church  of  God,  the  14th  March,  1S05."» 


154  THE    LIFE    Of 

pected  from  my  Lord  himself.  Our  Lord  himself  I  saw 
alone  in  him,  both  in  his  and  my  part  of  this  venerable  sa- 
crament ;  for  oh !  how  awful  those  words  of  unloosing  afte? 
a  thirty  years'  bondage.  I  felt  as  if  my  chains  fell,  as  those 
of  St.  Peter,  at  the  touch  of  the  divine  messenger. 
»  "  My  God  1  what  new  scenes  for  my  soul !  Annuncia- 
tion-day I  shall  be  made  one  with  him  who  said,  '  Unless 
you  eat  my  flesh  and  drink  my  blood,  you  can  have  no  part 
with  me.'  I  count  the  days  and  hours — yet  a  few  more  of 

hope  and  expectation,  and  then .     How  bright  the  sun, 

these  morning  walks  of  preparation !  Deep  snow,  or  smooth 
ice,  all  to  me  the  same — I  see  nothing  but  the  little  bright 
cross  on  St.  Peter's  steeple. 

"March  25. — At  last  God  is  mine,  and  I  am  his. 
Now  let  all  go  its  round.  I  have  received  him.  The  awful 
impressions  of  the  evening  before — fears  of  not  having  done 
all  to  prepare,  and  yet  even  the  transports  of  confidence  and 
hope  in  his  goodness.  My  God !  to  the  last  breath  of  life 
will  I  not  remember  this  night  of  watching  for  morning 
dawn — the  fearful,  beating  heart,  so  pressing  to  be  gone — 
the  long  walk  to  town,  but  every  step  counted  nearer  that 
street — then  nearer  that  tabernacle — then  nearer  the  mo- 
ment he  would  enter  the  poor,  poor  little  dwelling  so  all  his 
own.  And  when  he  did,  the  first  thought  I  remember  was, 
'  Let  God  arise,  let  his  enemies  be  scattered ;'  for  it  seemed 
to  me  my  King  had  come  to  take  his  throne,  and,  instead  of 
the  humble,  tender  welcome  I  had  expected  to  give  him,  it 
was  but  a  triumph  of  joy  and  gladness  that  the  deliverer 
was  come,  and  my  defence,  and  shield,  and  strength,  and  sal- 
vation, made  mine  for  this  world  and  the  next.  Now,  then, 
all  the  excesses  of  my  heart  found  their  play,  and  it  danced 
with  more  fervor — no,  must  not  say  that — but  perhaps  al- 
most with  as  much  of  the  Royal  Prophet  before  his  ark ; 
for  1  was  far  richer  than  he,  and  more  honored  than  he  ever 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  155 

ooold  be.  Now  the  point  is  for  the  fraits.  So  far,  truly  I 
feel  all  the  powers  of  my  soul  held  fast  by  him  who  came 
with  so  much  majesty  to  take  possession  of  his  little  poor 
kingdom." 

Such  were  the  fervent  sentiments  that  accompanied  Mrs. 
Seton  to  a  participation  of  the  bread  of  life.  The  memory 
of  that  day  never  passed  from  her  mindj  she  commemorated 
it  annually,  sanctifying  it  by  acts  of  gratitude  to  God,  and 
approaching  with  renewed  piety  that  sacrament  of  love  in 
which  she  found  a  plegde  of  her  eternal  union  with  God. 


BOOK  IV. 

Mrs  Se ton's  appreciation  of  Catholicity  —  Correspondence  with  Rev. 
Mr.  Cheverus — Other  clergymen — Persecution  from  her  family — Her 
temporal  affairs — Mr.  Filicchi's  substantial  friendship — Her  sons 
placed  at  college — Daily  duties — Piety  and  faith — Instructions  of  Rer. 
Mr.  Tisserant — Mrs.  Seton  receives  the  sacrament  of  confirmation — 
Messrs.  Filicchi  and  Tisserant  embark  for  Europe — Relations  between 
Mr.  Filicchi  and  Mrs.  Seton — Her  deportment  toward  Protestants — 
Intercourse  between  her  and  Miss  Cecilia  Seton — Conversion  of  the 
latter — Her  heroic  faith — Increased  opposition  to  Mrs.  Seton — Her  new 
friends — Example  of  her  sister-in-law  and  herself — Instruction  of  her 
children — She  meets  Rev.  William  Dubourg — New  plans — Confers  with 
Bishop  Carroll — Views  of  Messrs.  Matignon  and  Cheverus — Remark- 
able prediction  of  the  former — Notice  of  Mr.  Dubourg — Difficulties  of 
Mrs.  Seton's  position  in  New  York — She  consults  Bishop  Carroll — 
His  advice — Another  int«rview  with  Mr.  Dubourg — She  resolves  to 
commence  an  institution  in  Baltimore — Plan  of  Mr.  Dubourg. 

AFTER  the  long  and  difficult  struggle  which  she  made  to 
become  a  member  of  the  true  Church,  Mrs.  Seton  could  not 
but  fee.  it  an  extraordinary  degree  the  worth  of  that  hid- 
den treasure  of  faith  which  had  been  revealed  to  her.  So 


156  THE    LIFE    0V 

highly  did  she  prize  it,  and  so  grateful  a  sense  did  she  ea- 
tertain  of  the  precious  gift,  that  she  poured  forth  the  most 
fervent  thanksgiving  to  the  Father  of  lights,  for  the  mercies 
he  had  vouchsafed  to  her,  and  hastened,  like  the  woman  in 
the  gospel  who  had  found  the  groat  that  was  lost,  to  ex- 
press her  joy  and  happiness,  by  communicating  the  glad 
tidings  to  all  her  friends.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Cheverus  received 
the  following  letter  from  her  soon  after  her  conversion : — 

"REV.  AND   DEAR   SlB: — 

"  My  joyful  heart  offers  you  the  tribute  of  its  lively 
gratitude  for  your  kind  and  charitable  interest  in  ita 
sorrows  when  it  was  oppressed  with  doubts  and  fears, 
and  hastens,  after  the  completion  of  its  happiness,  to  in- 
form you  that,  through  the  boundless  mercy  of  God,  and 
aided  by  your  satisfactory  counsels,  my  soul  has  offered  all 
its  hesitations  and  reluctancies  a  sacrifice,  with  the  blessed 
sacrifice  on  the  altar,  on  the  14th  of  March,  and  the  next 
day  was  admitted  to  the  true  Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  with 
a  mind  grateful  and  satisfied,  as  that  of  a  poor  shipwrecked 
mariner  on  being  restored  to  his  true  home.*  I  should  im- 
mediately have  made  a  communication  so  pleasing  to  you, 
but  have  been  necessarily  very  much  engaged  in  collecting 
all  the  powers  of  my  soul  for  receiving  the  pledge  of  eternal 
happiness  with  which  it  has  been  blessed  on  the  happy  day 
of  the  Annunciation,  when  it  seemed  indeed  to  be  admitted 
to  a  new  life  and  that  peace  which  passes  all  understanding 
With  David,  I  now  say,  'Thou  hast  saved  my  soul  from 
death,  my  eyes  from  tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling/  and 
certainly  desire  most  earnestly  to  'walk  before  him  in  the 
land  of  the  living,'  esteeming  my  privilege  so  great,  and  what 
he  has  done  for  me  so  beyond  my  most  lively  hopes,  that  I 

*  By  admission  to  the  true  Church,  Mrs.  Setou  probably  means  that 
•he  WM  baptized  conditionally  and  approached  the  sacrament  of  penano* 


MRS.    K.   A.    8ETON.  157 

tan  scarcely  realize  my  own  blessedness.  You,  dear  sir, 
could  never  experience,  but  may  picture  to  yourself  a  poor 
hardened  creature,  weighed  down  with  sins  and  sorrows,  re- 
ceiving an  immediate  transition  to  life,  liberty,  and  rest. 
Oh,  pray  for  me,  that  I  may  be  faithful  and  persevere  to 
the  end ;  and  I  would  beg  of  you  advice  and  counsel  how  to 
preserve  my  inestimable  blessings.  True,  there  are  many 
good  books,  but  directions  personally  addressed  from  a  re- 
vered source  must  forcibly  impress.  For  instance,  many 
years  I  have  preferred  those  chapters  which  you  appoint  in 
*St.  John ;  but,  from  your  direction,  make  it  a  rule  to  read 
them  constantly.  The  book  you  mentioned,  'The  Follow- 
ing of  Christ/  has  been  my  consolation  through  the  severest 
struggles  of  my  life,  and  indeed  one  of  my  first  convictions 
of  the  truth  arose  from  reflecting  on  the  account  a  Protest- 
ant writer  gives  of  Kempis,  as  having  been  remarkable  for 
his  study  and  knowledge  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  fervent 
zeal  in  the  service  of  God.  I  remember  falling  on  my  knees, 
and  with  many  tears  inquired  of  God  if  he  who  knew  his 
Scriptures  so  well,  and  so  ardently  loved  him,  could  have 
been  mistaken  in  the  true  faith.  Also,  in  reading  the  life  of 
St.  Francis  de  Sales,  I  felt  a  perfect  willingness  to  follow 
him,  and  could  not  but  pray  that  my  soul  might  have  its 
portion  with  his  on  the  great  day.  f  The  sermons  of  Bour- 
daloue  have  also  greatly  helped  to  convince  and  enlighten 
me.  For  many  months  past,  one  of  them  is  always  included 
in  my  daily  devotions."* 

The  spiritual  aid  here  solicited  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Che- 
verus  was  most  cordially  extended.  The  epistolary  corre- 
spondence which  had  commenced  between  him  and  Mrs. 
Seton  was  continued  to  the  close  of  her  life,  to  the  great 
•atisfaction  and  edification  of  both.  He  entertained  for  her 
the  highest  respect  and  esteem,  and  expressed  to  her  the 
hope  that  their  correspondence  would  be  kept  up,  as  he  con- 
14 


158 

sidered  it  a  happiness  to  be  favored  with  her  letters.  Shorti* 
after  her  admission  into  the  Church,  he  sent  her  a  prayer- 
book,  "  as  a  small  token  of  his  friendship  and  respect,"  add- 
ing:— •'  Whenever  you  think  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you,  J 
beg,  dear  madam,  you  will  apply  without  any  fear  of  doing 
it  too  often;  I  shall  always  answer  your  esteemed  letters  with 
punctuality,  and  in  the  best  manner  I  am  able."  Mrs.  Seton 
nad  the  advantage  of  intercourse  with  several  other  distin- 
guished clergymen  of  that  day.  Besides  the  venerable  Bishop 
Carroll,  whose  valued  services  in  her  behalf  we  have  already 
noticed,  she  became  acquainted  with  the  Rev.  Dr.  Matignon,  > 
pastor  of  the  Catholic  Church  at  Boston,  who,  like  Mr.  Che- 
verus,  had  been  driven  from  France  by  the  terrors  of  the  re- 
volution, and,  like  him,  had  won  the  respect  of  the  whole 
population  of  Boston/6'  A  gentleman  writing  to  Mrs 
Seton  from  this  place  remarked  to  her,  in  allusion  to  these 
worthy  ecclesiastics : — "  Their  appearance,  their  deportment, 
their  learning,  are  acknowledged  almost  with  enthusiasm 
by  most  of  the  Protestants  themselves."  The  Rev.  Michael 
Uurley,  an  Augustinian  friar,  then  lately  arrived  from 
Europe,  and  afterward  pastor  of  St.  Augustine's  in  Phila- 
delphia, was  also  a  particular  friend  of  Mrs.  Seton,  and,  as 
we  shall  see  hereafter,  took  an  active  part  in  her  spiritual 
concerns.  But  Mr.  Cheverus  recommended  to  her  parti- 
cular regard,  as  a  director  on  special  occasions,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
>  Tisserant,  a  French  ecclesiastic,  who  was  on  a  visit  to  Ame- 
rica, and  resided  principally  at  Elizabethtown,  New  Jersey; 
"a  most  amiable  and  respectable  man,"  as  Mr.  Cheverus 
styled  him,  and  equally  conspicuous  for  his  learning  and 
piety.  It  was  a  particular  blessing  of  God  upon  Mrs.  Seton 
that  she  was  surrounded  at  this  time  by  so  many  shining 
members  of  the  priesthood;  for  the  difficulties  of  her  posi- 
tion, in  consequence  of  the  change  in  her  religious  senti- 
mente  and  practice,  called  for  the  exercise  of  great  fortitude, 


MRS.   E.   A.   BETON.  159 

which  found  a  powerful  support  in  the  sympathy  and  coun- 
sels of  her  enlightened  friends. 

The  most  painful  circumstance  that  she  had  to  contend 
with  was  the  opposition  and  indifference  of  many  with  whom 
she  had  ever  been  united  by  the  most  intimate  ties.  Not  re- 
flecting that  her  earnest  inquiry  after  the  true  faith,  and  the 
disposition  to  make  every  sacrifice  for  the  peace  and  salvation 
of  her  soul,  should  have  entitled  her  to  increased  respect  and 
admiration,  these  false  friends  suffered  themselves  to  be 
misled  by  a  bigoted  and  unchristian  spirit.  She  had  followed 
the  dictates  of  her  conscience  and  become  a  Catholic;  this 
was  enough  to  excite  against  her  the  most  unkind  feelings, 
even  among  those  who  professed  to  believe  that  every  one 
should  judge  for  himself  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Such 
has  always  been  the  extraordinary  inconsistency  of  sectarian- 
ism ;  but  at  the  period  of  Mrs.  Seton's  conversion  the  spirit 
of  hostility  to  the  Catholic  Church  was  more  deeply  rooted 
in  the  public  mind  than  at  the  present  day.  The  time  had 
just  passed  away  when  the  true  faith  was  proscribed  in 
New  York,  and,  although  the  severe  penalties  which  had 
been  enforced  against  the  exercise  of  the  Catholic  religion 
were  now  abolished,  the  Protestant  exclusiveness  of  the  ante- 
revolutionary  period  was  far  from  having  disappeared,  and 
the  Catholic  portion  of  the  community  being  comparatively 
small,  and  possessing  no  social  or  political  influence,  it  was 
considered  by  the  aristocracy  of  the  city  a  sort  of  degrada- 
tion to  leave  the  ranks  of  Protestantism  for  the  communion 
of  the  true  Church.  To  a  woman  of  Mrs.  Seton's  delicate 
sensibility,  the  aversion  and  estrangement  of  many  who  had 
been  warmly  attached  to  her  must  have  been  in  the  highest 
degree  painful.  Some,  indeed,  of  her  former  friends  re- 
mained unaltered  in  their  attachment,  but  few  had  the 
eourage  to  appear  so  openly. 

This  state  of  things  could  not  but  operate  materially  against 


f60  THE    LIFE    OF 

her  temporal  prospects.  The  decline  of  her  husband*! 
affairs,  caused  by  untoward  circumstances  which  have  been 
referred  to,  had  left  her  without  a  sufficient  maintenance 
for  her  family.  If  she  had  remained  a  Protestant,  how- 
ever, she  would  have  received  every  assistance,  and  would 
hare  inherited  a  large  fortune ;  as  it  was,  she  was  obliged 
to  depend  upon  her  own  exertions,  except  so  far  as  she 
was  aided  by  the  munificent  friendship  of  Mr.  Filicchi 
and  a  few  others  who  were  interested  in  her  welfare.  Had 
circumstances  required  it,  or  even  had  Mrs.  Seton  acquiesced 
in  the  plan,  he  would  have  provided  a  comfortable  home  for 
herself  and  her  family  in  Italy;  and  he  assured  her  re- 
peatedly that  even  in  this  country  his  means  would  be  libe- 
rally advanced  for  the  promotion  of  her  happiness,  if  they 
who  should  be  her  first  resource  in  the  order  of  nature  neg- 
lected to  supply  her  wants  His  agents  in  New  York  were 
constantly  directed  to  honor  any  demands  that  she  would 
make  upon  them,  while  she  herself  was  urged  by  him  on 
various  occasions,  and  in  the  most  pressing  manner,  to  accept 
his  friendly  offers.  He  hoped,  by  carrying  her  through  the 
troubles  of  this  world,  to  attain  to  the  happiness  of  the  world 
to  come.  »"  To  relieve  her  wants,"  he  said,  "  was  the  pride 
of  his  soul,  and  his  best  passport  for  his  last  journey."  But 
Mrs.  Seton's  energy  of  character  and  spirit  of  humility  did 
not  permit  her  to  rely  entirely  upon  the  generosity  of  others. 
She  wished  to  exert  herself,  in  accordance  with  the  circum- 
Btances  of  her  situation,  for  the  support  of  her  family;  and 
with  this  view  she  adopted  a  plan  suggested  by  one  of  her 
friends,  to  open  a  boarding-house  for  a  limited  number  of 
boys  who  attended  an  academy  in  the  northern  suburbs  cf 
the  city.  By  her  attentions  to  the  youths  thus  confided  to 
her  care  she  was  enabled  in  part  to  secure  a  comfortable 
maintenance. 
In  addition  to  his  other  acts  of  generosity,  Mr.  Filicchi 


MBS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  161 

showed  a  deep  and  efficient  interest  for  the  education  of  her 
children.  During  a  visit  to  Canada,  in  the  summer  of  1805 
he  made  the  necessary  inquiries  relative  to  the  collegiate 
establishment  at  Montreal,  intending  to  place  her  two  boys 
in  that  institution,  one  of  whom  was  now  seven  and  the 
other  nine  years  of  age.  The  buildings,  however,  having 
been  damaged  by  fire,  were  not  prepared  for  the  reception 
of  students  from  abroad.  This  circumstance  directed  his  at- 
tention to  the  colleges  at  Baltimore  and  Georgetown,  in  the 
United  States;  and  after  mature  reflection  they  were  entered 
at  the  latter  establishment  in  May,  1806.<T) 

However  repugnant  to  natural  pride  may  have  been  the 
present  condition  of  Mrs.  Seton,  compared  with  the  affluence 
and  independence  of  former  years,  she  found  in  it  an  occasion 
of  joy  and  thankfulness,  because  she  had  the  consolation  to 
know  that  her  sacrifices  and  troubles  had  proceeded  from  her 
resolution  to  do  the  will  of  God.  In  her  religion  she  pos- 
sessed a  treasure  which  amply  compensated  her  for  the  loss 
of  earthly  things.  Every  day  increased  her  gratitude  to  God 
for  having  made  her  what  she  was,  and  her  generous  forti- 
tude was  a  proof  of  the  high  value  which  she  set  upon  the 
inestimable  blessing.  With  these  sentiments  she  went 
through  her  daily  round  of  duty,  commencing  it  with  prayer 
and  attendance  at  the  holy  sacrifice  of  mass,  and  frequently 
approaching  the  holy  communion,  the  great  source  of  her 
spiritual  energy  and  comfort.  She  would  then  occupy  her- 
eelf  with  her  domestic  concerns,  and,  after  the  little  fatigues 
and  labors  of  the  day,  assemble  her  children  and  entertain 
them  at  the  piano,  while  they  united  their  innocent  voices 
with  hers  in  some  pious  anthem  Such  W.MS  the  course  which 
she  pursued,  with  an  humble  submission  to  the  will  of  God 
in  the  midst  of  her  trials,  and  iree  iro.n  all  pride  that  would 
have  murmured  against  the  dispensations  of  Heaven.  The 
following  incident  will  show  the  Christian  temperament  of 


162  THE    LIFE    Of 

hers)il,  in  regard  to  her  temporal  situation.  An  elderly 
gentleman,  a  relative,  knowing  that  for  the  support  of  her 
family  she  was  dependent  on  her  "xertions,  would  frequently 
take  a  basket,  go  himself  to  the  market,  purchase  the  joint 
of  meat  which  he  knew  she  liked,  (for  he  had  in  more  pros- 
perous days  been  a  guest  at  her  table,)  add  to  it  some  other 
little  article,  and  carry  it  himself  to  her  humble  dwelling, 
fearful  of  intrusting  so  delicate  a  commission  to  a  servant 
In  speaking  of  this  circumstance  to  a  friend,  in  after  years, 
she  manifested  a  lively  sense  of  the  kindness  that  had  been 
shown  to  her. 

With  this  patient  submission  to  the  orderings  of  the  di- 
vine will,  Mrs.  Seton  united  an  extraordinary  fervor  in  the 
performance  of  her  religious  duties,  and  a  lively  spirit  of 
faith  in  all  her  actions.  She  looked  upon  the  privilege  of 
receiving  the  holy  communion  as  the  greatest  happiness  on 
earth,  and  as  a  remedy  for  every  evil.  The  following  words  in 
a  letter  to  one  of  her  relations,  whom  she  urges  to  sigh  after 
the  possession  of  the  true  faith,  show  the  sentiments  that 
animated  her  in  receiving  the  bread  of  life : — "  Beg  him, 
supplicate  him,  on  Sunday,  that  he  will  permit  you  to  re- 
ceive with  true  faith  the  sweet  substance  instead  of  the 
shadow.  Oh  heavenly  bliss!  delight  past  all  expression! 
how  consoling,  how  sweet,  the  presence  of  Jesus  to  the  long- 
ing, harassed  soul !  It  is  instant  peace,  and  balm  to  every 
wound."  So  intensely  did  she  feel  the  happiness  of  possess- 
ing our  Lord  really  present  on  the  altar,  that  she  wondered 
much  more  at  the  insensibility  of  the  Christian  who  stands 
at  a  distance  from  this  heavenly  treasure  or  is  not  wholly 
spiritualized  by  its  divine  communications,  than  at  the 
mystery  itself  which  the  eucharistic  institution  presents  to 
our  belief.  «" There  is  a  mystery,"  she  says,  "the  greatest 
of  all  mysteries,  not  that  my  adored  Lord  is  in  the  blessed 
Bacrament  of  the  altar, — his  word  has  said  it;  and  what  so 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  163 

simple  as  to  take  that  word  which  is  truth  itself  ? — but  that 
*  souls  of  his  own  creation,  whom  he  gave  his  life  to  save,  who 
are  endowed  with  his  choicest  gifts  in  all  things  else,  should 
remain  blind,  insensible,  and  deprived  of  that  light  without 
which  every  other  blessing  is  unavailing,  and  that  the  un- 
grateful, stupid,  faithless  being  to  whom  he  has  given  the 
free,  the  bounteous,  heavenly  gift  shall  approach  his  true 
and  holy  sanctuary,  taste  the  sweetness  of  his  presence, 
feed  on  the  bread  of  angels,  the  Lord  of  Glory  united  to  the 
very  essence  of  its  being  and  become  a  part  of  itself,  yet  still 
remain  grovelling  in  the  earth, — is,  my  poor,  poor  soul,  is 
what  we  too  well  experience,  while  lost  in  wonder  of  his  for- 
bearing mercy,  and  still  more  wondering  at  our  own  misery 
in  the  very  centre  of  blessedness.  Jesus  then  is  there :  we 
can  go,  receive  him ;  he  is  our  own.  Were  we  to  pause  and 
think  of  this  through  eternity,  yet  we  can  only  realize  it  by 
his  conviction.  That  he  is  there — oh  heavenly  theme ! — is  aa 
«  entirely  true  as  that  bread  naturally  taken  removes  my  hunger, 
so  this  bread  of  angels  removes  my  pain,  my  cares ;  warms, 
cheers,  soothes,  contents,  and  renews  my  whole  being.  Merci- 
ful God,  and  I  do  possess  you!  kindest,  tenderest,  dearest 
friend,  every  affection  of  my  nature  absorbed  in  you,  still  is 
active,  nay,  perfected  in  its  operations  through  your  refining 
love.  Hush,  my  soul,  we  cannot  speak  it.  Tongues  of  angels 
could  not  express  our  treasure  of  peace  and  contentment  in 
him.  •  Let  us  always  whisper  his  name  of  love  as  an  antidote 
to  all  the  discord  that  surrounds  us.  We  cannot  say  th« 
rest;  the  harmony  of  heaven  begins  to  us,  while,  silent  from 
all  the  world,  we  again  and  again  repeat,  Jesus,  Jesus, 
Jesus.  And  how  many  say  the  adored  name,  looking  beyond 
him,  while  looking  for  him — deny  him  on  his  altar!  Who, 
then,  is  the  author  of  the  religion  I  adore?  Is  man,  then, 
wiser  in  his  inventions  than  eternal  Wisdom  ?  Did  he  con- 
trive  a  method  to  relieve  the  wretched,  to  support  the  feeble, 


AtJ4  THE    LIFE    Of 

to  recall  the  sinner  and  secure  the  inconstant?  Which  of  us, 
having  once  tasted  how  sweet  the  Lord  is  on  his  holy  altar 
and  in  his  true  sanctuary,  who  finding  at  that  altar  his  nourish- 
ment of  soul  and  strength  to  labor,  his  propitiation,  thanks 
giving,  hope,  and  refuge,  can  think  but  with  sorrow  and 
anguish  of  heart  of  the  naked,  unsubstantial,  comfortless 
worship  they  partake  of  who  know  not  the  treasure  of  our 
faith?  Theirs  founded  on  words  of  which  they  take  the 
shadow,  while  we  enjoy  the  adored  substance  in  the  centre 
of  our  souls !  Theirs  void,  cheerless,  in  comparison  of  the 
bliss  of  our  daily  offering,  where  Jesus  pleads  for  us !  Oh 
my  soul,  when  our  corrupted  nature  overpowers,  when  we 
are  sick  of  ourselves,  weakened  on  all  sides,  discouraged 
with  repeated  relapses,  wearied  with  sin  and  sorrow,  we 
gently,  sweetly  lay  the  whole  account  at  his  feet;  reconciled 
and  encouraged  by  his  appointed  representative,  yet  trem- 
bling, and  conscious  of  our  imperfect  dispositions,  we  draw 
near  the  sacred  fountain.  Scarcely  the  expanded  heart  re- 
ceives its  longing  desire,  when,  wrapt  in  his  love,  covered 
with  his  righteousness,  we  are  no  longer  the  same — adoration, 
thanksgiving,  love,  joy,  peace,  contentment.  Unutterable 
mercy !  take  this  from  me ;  though  now  the  happiest  of  poor 
and  banished  sinners,  the  most  wretched,  desolate.  What 
would  be  my  refuge  ?  Jesus  is  everywhere,  in  the  very  air 
•I  breathe;  yes,  everywhere,  but  in  his  sacrament  of  the  altar 
as  present  actually  and  really  as  my  soul  within  my  body; 
in  his  sacrifice  daily  offered  as  really  as  once  offered  on  the 
cross.  Merciful  Saviour !  can  there  be  any  comparison  to 
this  blessedness  ?  Adored  Lord,  increase  my  faith,  perfect 
it,  crown  it,  thy  own,  thy  choicest,  dearest  gift.  Having 
drawn  me  from  the  pit,  and  borne  me  to  thy  fold,  keep 
me  in  thy  sweet  pastures  and  lead  me  to  eternal  life." 

The  following  language  expresses  the  comfort  which  sho 
experienced  in  approaching  the  tribunal  of  penance,  whick 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  165 

had  the  effect  of  invigorating  her  soul  against  the  assaults 
of  her  spiritual  enemies  : — 

"At  the  tribunal  of  reconciliation  I  received  strength. 
Father  Sibourd  assured  the  feeble  soul,  and  warned  it  of  the 
treacherous  fiend  who  would  tempt  the  little  child  from  the 
arms  of  its  mother.  Dear,  dear  adored  Redeemer,  as  the 
Buffering,  disobedient,  and  ungrateful  child,  but  wretched 
and  lost  without  your  reviving  and  pitying  tenderness  and 
pardon,  I  have  lain  and  still  remain  at  your  sacred  feet. 
The  abundance  of  tears  there  shed  will,  mixed  with  your 
precious  blood,  feed  and  nourish  the  soul  that  faints  and 
pants  for  deliverance  from  its  chains,  and  hopes  in  your 
mercy  alone." 

•In  order  to  impress  more  vividly  and  enduringly  upon 
her  mind  the  good  thoughts  and  resolutions  which  the  grace 
of  God  had  inspired,  Mrs.  Seton  was  in  the  habit  of  commit- 
ting  them  to  paper, — a  practice  which  is  often  witnessed 
among  pious  persons,  and  found  to  be  a  great  help  in  the 
service  of  God.  Her  religious  inclinations  had  led  her  to 
this  custom  from  early  life,  and,  now  that  she  enjoyed  bless- 
ings so  far  surpassing  those  of  former  days,  she  did  not 
abandon  one  of  the  most  effectual  means  of  treasuring  them 
up  in  her  memory  and  affections.  From  the  scraps  which 
she  has  left  us,  and  of  which  we  have  already  furnished  a 
few  specimens,  it  is  plain  that  the  sanctification  of  her  soul 
was  with  her  the  "one  thing  necessary,"  the  object  of  her 
deep  and  constant  solicitude.  To  promote  this  she  entered 
profoundly  into  the  scrutiny  of  her  sentiments  and  actions, 
prayed  often,  and  meditated  upon  the  truths  of  faith.  She 
thus  brings  before  her  view  the  weakness  and  falterings  of 
human  nature  in  the  hour  of  difficulty,  and  the  necessity  of 
bsing  always  sustained  by  divine  grace. 

"  Sept.  29,  Feast  of  St.  Michael,  Archangel. — The  sigh 
of  the  wretched  hails  you,  glorious  friend !  My  soul  claimi 


166  THE    LIFE    Of 

your  patronage  by  its  fervent  affection  and  confidence  IE 
your  protection  against  its  enemy.  How  he  triumphs  in 
that  poor  soul !  Poor,  poor  soul !  in  the  hour  of  peace  and 
Berenitj  how  confidently  you  asserted  your  fidelity,  how  sin- 
cerely embraced  pain  and  suffering  in  anticipation,  and  now 
that  only  one  finger  of  his  hand,  whose  whole  weight  you 
deserved,  is  laid  on  you,  recollection  is  lost,  nature  struggles, 
you  sink,  sorrow  overpowers,  and  pain  takes  you  captive. 
•  Oh,  my  soul,  who  shall  deliver?  My  Jesus,  arise,  and 
let  thy  enemies  be  scattered.  Shelter  my  sinking  spirit 
under  his  banner  who  continually  exclaims,  '  Who  is  like 
God?'" 

« •  On  the  feast  of  St.  Theresa,  October  15,  considering 
her  imperfection  by  the  light  shed  from  the  example  of 
that  great  saint,  she  pours  forth  her  soul  to  God  with  equal 
earnestness  and  humility,  and  animates  herself  to  further 
and  more  strenuous  efforts  in  his  service.  •"  Holy  Mother  ! 
you  called  yourself  a  sinner,  the  worst  of  sinners.  What 
then  am  I  ?  The  sins  of  your  whole  life  would  be  balanced 
by  the  sum  of  any  one  of  my  days.  My  Almighty  God ! 
what  then  am  I  ?  And  if  in  the  short  and  feeble  sight 
of  mortality  so  deeply  dyed,  what  then  in  £he  searching 
light  of  thy  truth  and  justice  ?  My  Saviour,  my  Jesus, 
hide  me,  shelter  me.  Shelter  the  shuddering,  trembling 
soul  that  lays  itself  in  thy  hand.  Yes,  again  I  begin — 
nothing  is  done.  Oh,  give  me  that  clean  heart — give 
me  thy  Spirit.  Oh  God,  how  short  may  be  my  time ! 
Help  me,  draw  me  on.  How  much  of  my  day  is  past  1 
know  not.  t  Save  me ;  let  not  the  night  overtake.  Blee sed 
saints  of  God,  pray  for  the  wandering,  weary  soul  who  has 
stayed  eo  far  behind.  You  have  reached  the  summit,  pray 
for  me." 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  vivid  portraiture  which  Mrs. 
Beton  draws  of  her  own  heart,  and  of  the  strong  emotions 


ME8.    E.    A.    8ETON.  167 

rising  within  her  in  the  moment  of  devout  recollection  and 
prayer.  «.  Her  morning  visit  to  the  church  in  opposition 
to  the  sluggishness  of  nature,  the  consolations  she  enjoyed 
in  the  presence  of  God,  the  unreserved  offering  of  herself 
to  him  on  the  altar  of  charity,  her  only  desire  to  love  him, 
and  this  at  the  risk  of  every  thing  on  earth, — all  is  depicted 
to  us  with  a  power  of  language  and  a  force  of  description 
that  shows  how  deeply  she  was  affected  by  these  sentiment* 
of  faith, 

"Feast  of  St.  Thomas  of  Villanova,  September  18. — 
Remember  this  day — the  head  cleaving  to  the  pillow,  the 
slothful  heart  asleep — how  unwilling  you  were  roused  to  go 
to  your  Lord,  who  has  so  often  overflowed  the  cup  of  bless- 
ing at  the  very  moment  of  insensibility  and  ingratitude. 
So  this  day,  when  he  was  approached  more  as  a  slave  goes 
to  regular  duty  than  the  perishing  wretch  to  its  deliverer, 
how  sweet,  how  merciful  was  the  reception  he  gave !  how 
bountiful,  how  abundant  thy  portion  !  What  a  reproof  to 
the  soul  that  loves  thee,  adored  Master !  and  how  merci- 
fully, too,  it  was  awakened  to  receive  it !  What  was  its 
reply  ?  It  can  only  be  understood  by  the  unutterable  love 
and  intelligence  of  a  spirit  to  its  Creator,  Redeemer,  God. 
But  it  must  remember  the  ardor  with  which  the  offering 
was  renewed  of  all,  all,  for  the  attainment  of  thy  deai 
love.  Imagining  the  corrupted  heart  in  thy  hand,  it 
begged  thee  with  all  its  strength  to  cut,  pare,  and  remove 
from  it  (whatever  anguish  it  must  undergo)  whatever  pre- 
vented the  entrance  of  thy  love.  Again  it  repeats  the 
supplication,  and  begs  it  as  thy  greatest  mercy,  cut  to  the 
centre,  tear  up  every  root,  let  it  bleed,  let  it  suffer  any 
thing,  every  thing,  only  fit  it  for  thyself,  place  only  thy 
lovs  there,  and  let  humility  keep  sentinel,  and  what  shall  I 
fear  ?  What  is  pain,  sorrow,  poverty,  reproach  ?  Blessed 
Lord  they  ail  were  once  thy  inmates,  thy  chosen  com- 


168  THE    LIPE    OF 

panions,  and  can  I  reject  them  as  enemies,  and  fly  from  tKt 
friends  you  send  to  bring  me  to  your  kingdom  ?  Lord,  I 
am  dust;  in  sweetest,  pitying  mercy  scourge  me,  compel 
my  coward,  feeble  spirit;  fill  it  with  that  fire  which  con- 
sumed the  blessed  saint  this  day  commemorated,  when  he 
cried  out  declaring  that  all  torments  and  fatigues  should 
joyfully  be  borne  to  obtain  it.  Unite  my  unworthy  soul  to 
his  earnest  entreaty : — '  0,  omnipotent  Jesus  !  give  m« 
what  thyself  commandest ;  for  though  to  love  thee  be  of  all 
things  most  sweet,  yet  it  is  above  the  reach  and  strength 
of  nature.  But  I  am  inexcusable  if  I  do  not  love  thee,  for 
thou  grantest  thy  love  to  all  who  desire  or  ask  it.  I  cannot 
see  without  light,  yet  if  I  shut  my  eyes  to  the  noonday 
light  the  fault  is  not  in  the  sun,  but  in  me.' "  . 

This  love  of  God  which  she  so  ardently  invoked  into 
her  soul  was  the  principle  of  all  her  actions;  for  it  led 
her  to  unite  them  continually  with  those  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  even  to  preserve  as  much  as  possible  the  thought  of 
God  in  the  midst  of  her  temporal  affairs.  On  one  occasion 
in  particular,  when  she  was  very  much  harassed  by  the  fre- 
quent calls  upon  her  attention,  her  spirit  seemed  to  be  un- 
fettered by  outward  cares,  and  flew  almost  every  moment 
to  the  engrossing  object  of  her  affections.  Speaking  of 
this  circumstance,  she  observed,  "  Who  can  bind  the  soul 
whi^h  God  sets  free  ?  It  sprang  to  him  fifty  times  an  hour. 
Scarcely  a  moment  without  being  turned  to  him,  while  th« 
voice  and  eyes  were  answering  down  below,  sweet'  sweet  >." 
Spiritual  writers  teach  us  that  there  are  two  principal 
methods  of  walking  in  the  presence  of  God :  eithei  by 
occasional  direction  of  one's  thoughts  and  aspirations  :o 
the  Almighty,  or  by  entering  into  the  spirit  of  our  gieat 
Model,  and  striving  to  copy  in  our  various  actions  the 
example  which  he  has  displayed.  Mrs.  Seton  practised 
this  excellent  means  of  sanctification  in  both  ways,  and, 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETOIT  169 

while  she  thus  proved  the  ardor  and  sincerity  of  her  io^e 
'for  God,  she  enjoyed  that  blessed  peace  which  it  always 
imparts  to  the  soul.  Even  in  the  midst  of  scenes  that 
were  calculated  to  depress  the  mind  and  fill  the  heart  with 
Borrow,  she  found  a  source  of  interior  joy  in  endeavoring 
to  imitate  the  spirit  of  self-denial  which  our  divine  Saviour 
exhibited  in  his  sufferings.  Alluding  to  the  sickness  which 
afflicted  some  of  her  family,  she  says : — "  Our  little  hos- 
pital is  cheerful  this  morning  after  a  sad  night.  Gladly 
accompanied  our  Adored  in  spirit  through  the  streets  of 
Jerusalem  all  night.  When  the  heart  is  all  his,  how  easy 
is  pain  and  sorrow,  or,  rather,  pain  and  sorrow  become  purest 
joy.  The  hand  trembles,  as  you  may  see,  but  the  soul  is 
all  peace." 

*That  peace  which  is  the  portion  of  the  chosen  servants 
of  God  is  seldom  unmixed  with  interior  struggles.  The 
joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost  supposes  trials  which  are  dispensed 
to  all ;  and  it  is  the  reward  of  those  who  learn  from  the 
sublime  teachings  of  the  gospel  and  the  exercise  of  prayer 
how  to  possess  their  souls  in  patience.  #For  this  reason 
Mrs.  Seton  was  led,  by  those  who  had  the  direction  of  her 
conscience,  to  seek  in  prayer  and  in  the  counsels  of  her 
spiritual  advisers  the  strength  and  light  which  she  needed 
for  preserving  the  tranquillity  of  her  soul.  "  I  hope,"  Mr. 
Cheverus  wrote  to  her,  "  you  continue  to  enjoy  that  happy 
peace  which  surpasseth  all  understanding.  Should  it,  how- 
ever, be  disturbed  by  doubts,  anxieties,  &c.,  do  not  get  dis- 
eouraged.  «ln  the  midst  of  the  storm,  and  when  Jesus 
leems  to  be  asleep,  call  upon  him  with  earnestness;  he  will 
arise,  and  every  thing  will  be  calm  within  you."  During 
the  first  year  after  her  conversion  she  corresponded  fre- 
quently with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tisserant,  already  mentioned, 
who,  residing  not  far  from  New  York,  was  more  easily 
accessible  as  her  counsellor  in  the  time  of  difficulty.  The 

15 


170  THE    LIFE    OF 

instructions  which  he  gave  her  were  a  source  of  great  corp- 
fort  in  her  trying  situation,  and  may  be  read  with  advan- 
tage by  every  pious  Christian.  Having  removed  to  her 
sister's  residence  on  Staten  Island  during  the  fall  of  1805, 
when  the  yellow  fever  was  prevailing  in  New  York,  she 
was  much  perplexed  in  mind,  and,  among  other  things,  iu 
not  being  able  to  perform  the  religious  duties  to  which  she 
had  been  accustomed.  While  she  was  suffering  these  in- 
terior troubles,  Mr.  Tisserant  conveyed  to  her  the  following 
excellent  advice : — 

"  You  are,  no  doubt,  well  convinced,  madam,  that  I  fee. 
a  most  lively  interest  in  all  the  cruel  troubles,  afflictions,  and 
agitations  which  you  have  experienced,  and  the  confidence 
which  you  have  in  me  renders  it  unnecessary  to  give  you  any 
further  assurances  of  what  I  say.  Would  that  I  had  the 
power  to  put  an  end  to  all  those  difficulties  !  I  should  be 
happy  even  in  being  able  to  alleviate  your  sufferings;  and, 
as  you  are  of  opinion  that  my  advice  will  have  this  effect,  I 
have  not  the  slightest  hesitation  in  giving  it;  and  in  doing 
BO  I  allow  the  well-founded  diffidence  which  I  have  in  my- 
self to  be  overcome  by  a  desire  to  conform  to  your  wishes 
I  think  that  in  retiring  to  your  sister's  house  you  have  acted 
for  the  best,  and  in  remaining  there  you  will  do  the  will  of 
God  for  the  present.  |i  We  should  judge  of  his  will  in  regard 
to  our  situation  in  ihis  world  from  the  nature  of  circum- 
stances,  when  these  present  nothing  incompatible  with  our 
duties,  and  particularly  when  to  act  otherwise  would  place 
as  in  an  extraordinary  position.  But  circumstances  seem  to 
Have  combined  in  directing  you  to  your  present  situation  in 
the  house  of  a  cherished  sister.  The  ties  of  consanguinity 
and  friendship,  with  the  dictates  of  charity,  superadded  tt 
the  other  considerations  which  led  you  thither,  give  them  a 
decisive  weight,  and  by  pursuing  a  different  course  you 
would  have  placed  yourself  in  a  state  which  could  hav« 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  171 

been  justified  only  by  the  supposition  that  the  demands  of 
religious  duty  required  it.  This,  however,  is  not  the  case. 
•  You  can  perform  your  religious  duties  in  your  present  situa- 
tion. If  you  draw  the  distinction  between  the  requirements 
of  duty  and  those  practices  which  are  suggested  only  by  the 
spirit  of  devotion,  a  great  desire  of  perfection  or  of  sensible 
consolations,  you  will  perceive  that  you  can,  strictly  speak- 
ing, discharge  your  obligations  where  you  are.  Confessioc 
and  communion  are  of  precept  only  once  a  year.  You  can 
absent  yourself  from  mass,  when  there  is  a  grave  reason  for 
so  doing  and  if  to  assist  at  it  would  be  attended  with  a 
serious  inconvenience,  as  may  be  your  case.  You  need  have 
no  scruple  of  conscience  in  your  case,  in  requesting  your  pastor 
to  dispense  you  from  the  precept  of  abstinence  on  Fridays  and 
Saturdays,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  will  be  granted,  &c. 
As  to  what  is  not  obligatory,  there  are  circumstances  in  which 
we  are  not  only  permitted,  but  even  bound,  to  lay  it  aside, 
for  reasons  less  urgent  than  those  which  you  may  have.  I 
am  far  from  signifying  to  you  that  you  ought  to  relinquish 
all  practices  of  piety  that  are  not  strictly  obligatory.  Such 
a  suggestion  as  this  would  be  a  pang  to  your  heart ;  it  would 
only  add  to  the  severe  trials  which  it  already  suffers.  <  The 
love  which  you  have  for  your  divine  Saviour  will  lead  you 
frequently  to  seize  a  propitious  moment  for  enjoying  the 
consolations  imparted  by  your  pious  observances.  9  But,  in 
tracing  the  line  of  distinction  between  duty  and  that  which 
is  not  so,  I  wish  simply  to  prevent  you  from  being  disturbed 
by  scruples,  and  to  regulate  that  ardent  zeal  for  all  that  re- 
lates to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls  which  I 
have  witnessed  with  so  much  pleasure  in  your  words  and 
actions,  and  which,  if  not  restrained,  might  become  too  partial 
to  your  inclinations,  would  cause  you  to  neglect  more  than  ia 
advisable  y)ur  personal  comfort,  and,  what  is  more,  would 
exhibit  our  holy  religion,  among  persons  who  do  not  profes* 


172  THE    LIFE    07 

it,  more  inflexible  than  it  really  is  on  those  points  which  are 
I  matters  of  supererogation,  or,  at  most,  requirements  of  the 
ecclesiastical  law,  from  which  a  dispensation  can  be  obtained 
for  grave  and  sufficient  reasons.*  In  short,  madam,  I  think 
that  in  your  situation,  after  complying  with  your  stricter 
duties,  you  may  obtain  a  dispensation  from  those  precepts  of 
the  Church  which  would  place  you  under  a  serious  restraint, 
and  that  you  ought  to  omit  those  practices  of  piety  which 
subject  you  to  the  inconveniences  you  have  mentioned.  I 
know  how  reluctantly  this  course  will  be  pursued  by  a  soul 
whose  delight  is  to  remain  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  and  there 
meditate  on  the  tender  love  of  her  divine  Spouse.  I  also 
consider  this  modification  of  your  rule  which  you  are  com- 
pelled to  adopt  as  a  new  trial  which  the  Almighty  sends 
you,  and  one  different  from  those  to  which  you  have  been 
accustomed.  You  are  called  upon  to  sacrifice  to  him  even 
the  sweet  comforts  of  religion,  and  no  doubt  you  will  pass 
through  this  trial  with  the  same  success  which  has  attended 
you  in  others.  The  dispositions  of  your  soul,  which  you 
have  described  to  me  in  so  affecting  a  manner,  leave  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  on  that  score.  "With  such  dispositions 
you  will  draw  upon  yourself  the  grace  of  God,  and  this  will 
enable  you  to  accomplish  all  things.  The  meditation  of  the 
Holy  Scripture  will  suggest  to  you  many  motives  of  encou- 
ragement, and  afford  you  much  consolation.  I  have  met  with 
several  passages  in  saying  my  office.  •  Tobias  in  his  affliction 
said  to  God,  'I  am  in  trouble,  0  Lord,  but  I  know  that 
after  a  storm  thou  bringest  a  calm,  after  tears  and  sorrow  a 
transport  of  joy:  bit,  0  God  of  Israel,  may  thy  holy  namo 
be  blessed  at  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances !'  And 
Job  exclaims :—'  The  Lord  hath  tried  me  as  gold  in  the 
fire:  my  feet  have  followed  in  his  paths:  I  have  walked 
faithfully  in  the  way  which  he  made  known  to  me :  I  have 
•  not  deviatod  from  it.'  *  Calm  your  disquietude,  also,  in  refer- 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETON.  173 

ence  to  your  dear  and  amiable  children.  You  are  much  con- 
cerned about  your  two  boys ;  but  I  am  persuaded  that  your 
gentle  and  affectionate  treatment  will  give  you  the  victory 
over  their  hearts,  and  will  enable  you  to  avert  hereafter  the 
difficulties  which  your  actual  situation  leads  you  to  appre- 
hend/' 

I  At  the  opening  of  the  holy  season  of  Lent,  in  the  year  1806, 
Mrs.  Seton  was  prevented  by  some  grave  reason  from  assist- 
ing at  the  solemn  ceremonial  of  the  Church;  but,  although 
debarred  this  satisfaction,  she  endeavored  to  compensate  for 
ill  loss  by  the  fervor  of  her  private  devotions,  and  applied 
herself  with  earnestness  to  the  duties  and  practices  which 
are  prescribed  at  this  penitential  time.  On  this  occasion  Mr. 
Tisserant  wrote  to  her,  moderating  her  zeal,  and  directing 
her  in  the  safe-keeping  of  that  happy  peace  which  Almighty 
God  imparted  to  her  soul : — 

•  "  March  9,  1806. — You  tell  me  that  you  were  prevented 
from  going  to  church  on  Ash- Wednesday.  The  ceremonies  of 
that  day  are  well  calculated  to  produce  solemn  impressions. 
If  I  did  not  know  how  deeply  convinced  you  are  of  the 
nothingness  of  this  world  and  of  the  necessity  of  penance,  I 
would  regret  the  more  that  you  had  been  prevented  from 
assisting  at  the  distribution  of  the  ashes,  &c.  I  am  edified, 
however,  by  the  manner  in  which  you  passed  that  day  in  the 
midst  of  your  little  parish.  Your  Lent  has  commenced  with 
a  sacrifice  and  with  the  mortification  of  the  will,  and  with  good 
resolutions,  which  I  hope  God  will  bless;  strengthen  them  by 
tae  practice  of  what  the  Church  enjoins  at  this  holy  time.  But 
dc  not  exaggerate  things.  Remember  what  you  have  to  do 
as  a  mother  and  in  the  employment  which  you  have  under- 
taken. All  this  is  trying,  and  does  not  permit  you  to  do 
what  perhaps  I  would  advise  if  you  were  in  a  cloister.  If 
you  should  have  a  real  doubt  on  any  subject,  consult  your 

director.  .  .  .You  did  well  to  reject  the  thoughts  that  tended 
16* 


174  THE    LIFE    Of 

to  disturb  the  peace  of  mind  wliieh  you  enjoyed  at  the  begin- 
ning of  Lent.  The  recollection  of  our  past  faults  ought  not 
to  beget  disquietude.  A  mental  calm  that  springs  from  a 
principle  of  pride  or  presumption,  or  leads  to  the  neglect  of 
duty,  is  indeed  to  be  feared ;  but  yours,  accompanied  as  it 
is  with  a  sense  of  your  former  sins,  and  with  a  constant  dis- 
position to  do  all  you  can  in  future  for  the  love  of  our  divine 
Master,  and  particularly  to  perform  the  works  of  penance 
prescribed  at  this  holy  time,  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  result  of 
that  filial  confidence  which  the  infinite  goodness  and  power 
of  our  Heavenly  Father  ought  to  inspire,  and  is  one  of  the 
most  precious  gifts  that  he  bestows.  It  is  a  duty  on  our 
part  to  cherish  it  while  it  is  granted.  Endeavor,  therefore, 
by  being  faithful  to  your  resolutions,  to  discard  whatever 
might  deprive  you  of  it.  If  it  please  God  to  withdraw  it  from 
time  to  time,  strive  to  render  yourself  worthy  of  it  again,  by 
bearing  the  trial  with  courage  and  redoubling  your  fervor. 
It  will  give  me  pleasure  to  learn  that  you  are  accustoming 
yourself  to  banish  those  vague  anxieties  which  sometimes 
haunt  your  mind.  .  .  .  »The  habit  of  dismissing  them  will 
give  you  more  control  over  your  imagination,  and  will  con- 
tribute to  your  perfection  as  well  as  to  your  happiness.", 

During  the  course  of  the  Lent,  Mrs.  Seton  suffered  much 
from  sickness ;  and,  notwithstanding  her  entire  resignation 
to  the  will  of  God,  her  indisposition  produced  a  depression 
of  mind  that  tended  to  disturb  the  peace  of  her  soul.  Mr. 
Tisserant,  while  he  encouraged  her  in  recalling  with  Chris- 
tian sentiments  the  thought  of  death,  cautioned  her  against 
reflections  that  would  lead  her  to  apprehend  the  conse- 
quences of  her  malady : — 

*" March  16,  1806. — Your  last  letter  greatly  afflicts  me, 
as  I  learn  from  it  that  you  have  been  seriously  indisposed, 
and  that  your  sickness  has  left  on  your  mind  a  deep  im 
pression  relative  to  its  immediate  or  ultimate  consequences 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETOK.  175 

A  Christian  should  oftentimes,  even  in  the  enjoyment  of 
health,  contemplate  his  lust  end,  and  that  dissolution  which 
will  terminate  the  present  life  He  should  fancy  to  him- 
self that  this  event  may  take  place  at  any  moment,  and  at 
the  foot  of  the  crucifix  offer  to  God  the  sacrifice  of  the 
dearest  considerations  that  bind  him  to  this  world,  and  by 
these  preparatory  means  render  more  easy  that  final  sacrifice 
which  is  inevitable.  Bodily  suffering  is  an  admonition  to 
the  Christian  to  indulge  in  these  sentiments,  and  the  pious 
soul  is  careful  not  to  neglect  so  salutary  a  practice.  I  have 
been  much  edified  by  the  manner  in  which  you  have  per- 
formed this  duty,  and  I  thank  God  for  having  given  you 
that  peaceful  resignation  which  looks  more  to  the  decrees 
of  his  holy  will  than  to  the  momentary  suggestions  of  na- 
ture, and  for  having  blessed  you  with  so  perfect  a  reliance 
»  upon  his  providential  care  in  relation  to  your  spiritual  in- 
terests and  whatever  is  most  dear  to  you.  May  you  always 
remain  in  these  happy  dispositions  1" 
«  Her  sickness  still  continuing  toward  the  end  of  Lent, 
Mr.  Tisserant  warned  her  against  the  indiscreet  austerity 
into  which  she  might  have  been  led,  directing  her  to  post- 
pone to  some  other  period  what  was  then  beyond  her  phy- 
sical strength,  and  suggesting  the  following  sentiments  foi 
the  exercise  of  her  piety  on  the  Friday  of  Holy  Week  : — 
"Cast  yourself  in  the  arms  of  an  expiring  Saviour;  give 
yourself  to  him,  and  dwell  upon  the  confidence  and  consola- 
tion which  this  great  mystery  should  inspire.  You  have 
told  me  that  the  heart  of  Jesus  was  your  refuge  :  let  it  be 
BO  always;  retired  within  that  asylum,  what  have  you  to 
fear,  and  what  can  appear  to  you  burdensome  or  painful  ?" 
•  For  a  clergyman  whose  enlightened  counsel  was  a  source 
of  so  much  consolation  to  her,  Mrs.  Seton  could  not  but  en- 
tertain the  most  profound  regard ;  and  hence,  upon  the  ap- 
proach of  the  solemn  occasion  when  she  was  to  receive  the 


176  THE     LIFE    OF 

I  wcrament  of  confirmation  at  the  hands  of  Bishop  Carroll, 
she  invited  Mr.  Tisserant  to  act  as  her  sponsor,  and  to  pre- 
sent her  to  the  Church  of  God  as  a  candidate  for  the  gifta 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Her  letter,  however,  did  not  reach  him 
in  time,  and  he  wrote  to  her,  lamenting  the  disappointment, 
and  congratulating  her  upon  the  signal  blessings  she  had 
received  : — "  I  submit  to  the  disappointment,  and  the  more 
readily,  as  the  choice  which  you  have  made  of  me,  to  wit- 
ness your  happiness  and  to  be  the  surety  of  your  holy  resolu- 
tions, is  so  flattering  and  agreeable  to  me,  that  I  must  con- 
sider myself  unworthy  of  the  satisfaction  it  would  have  im- 
parted. If  I  was  deprived  of  so  great  a  pleasure,  you  at 
least  have  received  those  precious  graces  which  will  confirm 
your  faith,  animate  your  courage  for  the  martyrdom  to 
which  you  have  exposed  yourself,  and  render  fruitful  the 
apostleship  which  is  the  result  of  your  conversion  and 
example.  With  these  graces  you  have  also  received  the 
Spirit  of  consolation,  who,  I  trust,  will  make  you  more  and 
more  sensible  of  his  divine  and  tender  influences.  Oh  that 
I  had  been  present  at  the  moment  when  you  received  the 
character  of  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  strength  to 
combat  still  more  generously  under  his  sacred  banner  1" 

Shortly  after  this  happy  event,  which  took  place  in  St. 
Peter's  Church,  New  York,  on  the  26th  of  May,  Mr.  Tisse- 
rant embarked  for  Europe,  much  to  the  loss  of  Mrs.  Seton, 
who  valued  his  advice  and  friendly  interest  the  more  as  re- 
ligion was  now  her  only  comfort  and  support.  Great  a'.so 
was  her  loss  and  affliction  in  being  compelled  to  bid  adieu  to 
Mr.  Filicchi,  whose  incomparable  services  to  her  could  be 
imagined  and  felt,  but  not  expressed  in  word.  That  he  had 
been  a  true,  constant,  and  devoted  friend  of  her  and  her 
children  was  enough  to  have  made  him  the  object  of  their 
grateful  and  affectionate  regard ;  but  he  was  more  than 
this.  He  had  performed  toward  her  the  part  of  a  brother. 


MRS.   E.   A.   8ETON.  17" 

When  in  a  strange  land  she  was  overtaken  by  the  bitterest 
affliction,  be  became  her  protector.  He  offered  her  a  home 
in  her  widowhood,  and  even  left  the  endearments  of  his 
own  family  to  accompany  her  to  her  native  shores.  He  it 
was  who  first  directed  her  to  the  true  path  of  eternal  life : 
he  also  stood  by  her  in  every  difficulty ;  in  all  her  doubts 
and  anxieties  he  enlightened,  encouraged,  and  consoled  her, 
and  he  did  not  desist  a  moment  from  his  charitable  zeal 
until  he  beheld  her  safely  arrived  in  the  haven  of  Catholic 
truth.  And,  when  they  whom  the  sacred  ties  of  con- 
sanguinity should  have  led  to  share  their  abundance  with 
her  and  her  little  ones  were  unmoved  by  the  wants  of  her 
situation,  he  nobly  exerted  himself  for  their  assistance,  and 
still  more  nobly  offered  to  supply  all  her  necessities  from 
the  ample  means  of  himself  and  his  brother.  Such  friend- 
ship was  not  lost  upon  a  lady  of  Mrs.  Seton's  elevated  senti- 
ments, nor  upon  a  Christian  of  her  accomplished  virtue. 
She  fully  appreciated  all  that  had  been  done  in  her  behalf, 
as  well  as  the  prospect  of  still  further  kindness,  and  she 
knew  that  only  a  brother's  heart  could  have  prompted  such 
a  course.  She  therefore  called  him  brother,  and  enter- 
tained for  him  the  feelings  of  a  sister ;  but  the  sincerity 
and  warmth  of  her  gratitude  can  be  understood  only  from 
the  eloquent  and  inimitable  language  which  she  herself  has 
employed  in  depicting  it.  In  a  letter  addressed  to  him  oil 
the  14th  of  March  ensuing,  the  anniversary  of  her  abjura- 
tion of  Protestantism,  she  says  : — "  My  dear  Antonio,  this 
day  cannot  be  passed  over  without  offering  some  part  of  it 
to  my  dear  brother,  who  has  largely  shared  the  happiness  it 
commemorates.  Do  you  remember  when  you  carried  the 
poor  little  wandering  sheep  to  the  fold,  and  led  it  to  the 
feet  of  its  tender  shepherd?  Whose  warning  voice  first 
Baid,  'My  sister,  you  are  in  the  broad  way,  and  not  in  the 
right  one'  ?  Antonio's.  Who  begged  me  to  seek  the  right 


178  THE    LIFE     OF 

one?  Antonio  "WTio  led  me  kindly,  gently  in  it?  A* 
tonio.  And,  when  deceived  and  turning  back,  whose  ten- 
der, persevering  charity  withheld  my  erring  steps  and 
strengthened  my  fainting  heart  ?  Antonio's.  And  who  is 
my  unfailing  friend,  protector,  benefactor  ?  Antonio  !  An- 
tonio !  Commissioned  from  on  high,  the  messenger  of 
peace,  the  instrument  of  mercy.  My  God,  my  God,  mj 
God,  reward  him !  The  widow's  pleading  voice,  the  orptan't 
innocent  hands,  are  lifted  to  you  to  bless  him.  They  rejoic« 
in  his  love;  oh,  grant  him  the  eternal  joy  of  yours  !"  Such 
was  the  valued  friend  from  whom  she  was  about  to  be  sepa- 
rated. On  his  part,  also,  a  painful  sacrifice  was  to  be  made. 
In  her  and  her  children  he  beheld  an  adopted  family,  the 
object  of  his  deep  and  constant  solicitude ;  in  them  he  wit- 
nessed a  trophy  of  his  zeal  and  piety,  a  perpetual  source  of 
pleasure  and  edification  in  a  strange  land;  the  interest 
which  he  took  in  their  welfare  he  considered  the  secret  of 
the  many  favors  he  had  received  from  Heaven.  "Your 
letters,"  he  wrote  to  her,  "are  to  me  models  of  language 
and  style,  a  pattern  of  friendly  expressions,  a  living  example 
and  incitement  to  virtue  and  godliness,  a  true  blessing  in 
my  present  wandering,  wearisome  life."  In  parting,  it  was 
the  consolation  of  those  mutually-cherished  friends  to  re- 
flect that  religion  and  virtue  had  united  them, — that  one 
had  visited  "  the  widow  and  the  fatherless  in  their  tribula- 
tion," while  the  other  had  found  the  priceless  treasure  of 
faith,  which  would  more  than  supply  the  loss  of  all  earthly 
comforts  and  possessions. 

Mrs.  Seton,  in  the  midst  of  an  anti-Catholic  society,  wat 
naturally  called  upon  to  advocate  the  cause  of  truth ;  bu. 
though  she  prudently  availed  herself  of  the  opportunity  U 
defend  it,  she  did  not  urge  it  unnecessarily  upon  the  atten- 
tion of  others.  She  thus  writes  to  one  of  her  Protestant 
friends,  who  had  alluded  to  her  conversion : — "  I  assure 


MRS.    E.   A.    SETON.  179 

70U,  my  becoming  a  Catholic  was  a  very  simple  consequence 
of  going  to  a  Catholic  country,  where  it  was  impossible  for 
any  one,  interested  in  any  religion,  not  to  see  the  wide  dif- 
ference between  the  first  established  faith,  given  and  founded 
by  our  Lord  and  his  apostles,  and  the  various  forms  it  haa 
since  taken ;  and,  as  I  had  always  delighted  in  reading  the 
Scriptures,  I  had  so  deep  an  impression  of  the  mysteries  of 
divine  revelation,  that,  though  full  of  the  sweet  thought  that 
every  good  and  well-meaning  soul  was  right,  I  was  detei- 
mined,  when  I  came  home,  both  in  duty  to  my  children  and 
my  own  soul,  to  learn  all  I  was  capable  of  understanding  on 
the  subject.  If  ever  a  soul  did  make  a  fair  inquiry,  our 
God  knows  that  mine  did,  and  every  day  of  life  increases 
more  and  more  my  gratitude  to  him  for  having  made  me 
what  I  am.  Certainly,  though,  it  was  the  knowledge  of  the 
Protestant  doctrine  with  regard  to  faith (8)  that  made  me  a 
Catholic ;  for,  as  soon  as  on  inquiry  I  found  that  Episco- 
palians did  not  think  everybody  right,  I  was  convinced  my 
safe  plan  was  to  unite  with  the  Church  in  which,  at  all 
events,  they  admitted  that  I  would  find  salvation,  and 
where  also  I  would  be  secure  of  the  apostolic  succession, 
as  well  as  of  the  many  consolations  which  no  other  religion 
but  the  Catholic  can  afford.  The  whole  is,  that  with  the 
convictions  of  my  conscience,  my  salvation  depended  on 
embracing  the  Catholic  faith.  I  never  obtrude  my  thoughts 
on  the  subject,  but  leave  all  to  their  own  light  and  grace, 
while  I  enjoy  mine.  A  true  joy  to  me,  indeed,  the  daily 
morning  sacrifice,  and  our  frequent  and  daily  communion, 
when  prepared  !  What  a  contrast  to  the  morning  sleep  in 
former  days !  It  has  been  my  wealth  in  poverty  and  joy 
in  deepest  affliction."  Notwithstanding  this  prudential 
course  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Seton,  she  was  liable  to  the  usual 
annoyances  of  those  who  are  disposed  to  assail  the  truth 
without  being  willing  to  respect  its  claims.  Under  these 


180  THE    LIFE    Of 

circumstances,  she  was  advised  by  Mr.  Cheverus  to  defend 
her  religion  with  prudence  and  moderation,  but  not  to  enter 
into  discussion  with  such  as  were  governed  more  by  the 
spirit  of  contention  than  by  the  love  of  truth ;  as  disputes 
of  this  kind  generally  lead  to  a  violation  of  charity,  instead 
of  promoting  any  useful  end.  "I  am  aware,"  says  he,  "of 
the  difficulties  and  troubles  you  must  have  to  encounter  in 
the  midst  of  your  acquaintances.  When  those  who  raise 
objections  expect  an  answer,  give  them  some  short  and 
clear  reason  of  that  hope  which  is  in  you.  If  they  grow  too 
warm,  recommend  only  to  them  to  read  and  examine  at 
leisure,  if  they  think  it  worth  their  while.  Silence  is  the 
best  answer  to  the  scoffers.  But,  whether  you  speak  or  be 
silent,  let  your  heart  cry  to  the  Lord  in  the  hour  of  tempta- 
tion. When  you  have  done  what  you  thought  most  proper 
at  the  time,  you  have  committed  no  sin,  even  if  afterward 
you  should  think  that  you  ought  to  have  acted  in  a  different 
manner. 

"  Be  not  anxious,  my  dear  madam,  but  rather  rejoice  in 
hope.  Jesus  has  received  you  in  the  number  of  his  true  dis- 
ciples, since,  like  them,  you  rejoice  in  your  sufferings  and 
afflictions.  Like  the  blessed  apostle  whose  festival  we  cele- 
brate to-day,  you  welcome  the  cross  as  the  greatest  blessing 
and  think  yourself  happy  in  being  fastened  to  it.  May  God 
Almighty  maintain  you  in  these  sentiments !  May  the  love 
of  Jesus  keep  your  heart  during  this  holy  time,  and  prepare 
it  to  become  a  sanctuary  worthy  of  him  !" — November  30, 
1805,  St.  Andrew,  Ap. 

These  instructions  of  Mr.  Cheverus  were  communicated 
about  the  beginning  of  Advent,  1805.  At  this  time,  while 
some  of  Mrs.  Seton's  relatives  were  very  much  opposed  to 
her  on  the  ground  of  religion,  there  was  one  who  was  united 
to  her  by  the  most  intimate  and  holy  friendship.  We  have 
already  mentioned  the  name  of  Miss  Cecilia  Seton,  her  sis- 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON  181 

ter-in-law,  as  a  person  in  whose  virtuous  training  she  took  a 
most  lively  interest.  She  was  very  young,  possessed  of  great 
personal  attractions,  and  equally  remarkable  for  the  sweet- 
ness of  her  manners  and  the  piety  of  her  disposition.  We 
may  form  some  idea  of  the  affectionate  and  virtuous  intimacy 
that  existed  between  her  and  Mrs.  Seton  from  the  following 
note,  which  she  received  from  the  latter  in  October  of  the 
same  year. 

"The  sweetest  and  even  the  most  innocent  pleasures 
quickly  pass  in  this  life,  and  the  dear  moments  of  peace  and 
love  enjoyed  with  my  Cecilia  this  morning  appear  only  as  a 
dream  But,  as  a  dream  pleasing  and  soothing  to  the  mind 
often  gives  it  a  foretaste  of  something  it  earnestly  covets,  so 
my  heart  turns  to  the  dear  hope  that  it  may  one  day  enjoy 
your  society  even  in  this  world;  or,  if  otherwise  ordained 
by  our  dear  and  Heavenly  Father,  the  more  certain  hope  of 
an  eternal  union  before  his  throne  cannot  fail  us  but  by  our 
own  negligence  and  perversion,  against  which  we  must  pray 
literally  without  ceasing, — without  ceasing,  in  every  occur- 
rence and  employment  of  our  lives.  You  know,  I  mean 
that  prayer  of  the  heart  which  is  independent  of  place  or 
situation,  or  which  is  rather  a  habit  of  lifting  up  the  heart 
to  God,  as  in  a  constant  communication  with  him;  as,  for 
instance,  when  you  go  to  your  studies,  you  look  up  to  him 
with  sweet  complacency,  and  think,  0  Lord,  how  worthless 
is  this  knowledge,  if  it  were  not  for  the  enlightening  my 
/nind  and  improving  it  to  thy  service,  or  for  being  more 
useful  to  my  fellow-creatures,  and  enabled  to  fill  the  part 
thy  providence  may  appoint  me !  When  going  into  society, 
or  mixing  with  company,  appeal  to  him  who  sees  your 
heart  and  knows  how  much  rather  you  would  devote  to 
him;  but  say,  dear  Lord,  you  have  placed  me  here,  and  I 
must  yield  to  them  whom  you  have  placed  me  in  subjection 

to:   oh  keep  my  heart  from  all  that  would  separate  me 
Iff 


182  THE    LIFE    OF 

from  thee !  When  you  are  excited  to  impatience,  think  foi 
a  moment  how  much  more  reason  God  has  to  be  angry  with 
you  than  you  have  for  anger  against  any  human  being,  and 
yet  how  constant  is  his  patience  and  forbearance.  And  in 
every  disappointment,  great  or  small,  let  your  dear  heart  fly 
direct  to  him,  your  dear  Saviour,  throwing  yourself  in  his 
arms  for  refuge  against  every  pain  and  sorrow.  He  never 
will  leave  you  or  forsake  you." 

The  friendship  of  Mrs.  Seton  and  her  sister  Cecilia  was 
of  that  elevated  character  which  acted  as  an  encouragement 
to  both  in  the  love  and  pursuit  of  virtue ;  and  it  gradually 
produced  impressions  upon  the  mind  of  the  latter  which 
could  not  fail,  with  the  grace  of  God,  to  result  most  favor- 
ably for  her  spiritual  welfare.  The  happy  influence  of  Mrs. 
Seton's  piety  and  constancy  was  also  much  aided  by  an  ill- 
ness with  which  it  pleased  Divine  Providence  to  afflict  her 
relative  toward  the  end  of  the  year  above  mentioned.  During 
her  sufferings,  Mrs.  Seton  consoled  her  by  her  visits,  or  by 
writing  to  her,  and  suggesting  the  most  excellent  acts  of 
devotion  for  the  time  of  sickness.  The  following  we  place 
before  the  reader  as  an  illustration  of  her  fervent  piety  and 
lively  faith: — 

''Oh  that  I  could  take  the  wing  of  the  angel  of  peace,  and 
visit  the  heart  of  my  darling  child !  Pain  and  sorrow  should 
take  their  flight;  or,  if  ordained  to  stay  as  messengers  from 
our  Father  of  Mercies,  to  separate  you  from  our  life  of 
temptation  and  misery,  and  prepare  you  for  the  reception  of 
endless  blessedness,  I  would  repeat  to  you  the  story  of  his 
sufferings  and  anguish  who  chose  them  for  his  companions 
from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  I  would  help  you  to  separate 
all  worldly  thoughts  from  your  breast,  to  yield  the  sinful 
body  to  the  punishment  it  deserves,  and  to  beg  that  sancti- 
fying grace  which  will  change  temporal  pain  to  eternal 
glory  j  and  then  I  would  again  remind  you  of  those  sweet 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  183 

instructions  and  heavenly  precepts  we  read  together  the 
happy  night  we  last  enjoyed.  .  .  .  My  Cecilia,  I  beg,  be- 
seech, implore  you,  to  offer  up  all  your  pains,  your  sorrows 
and  vexations,  to  God,  that  he  will  unite  them  with  the  sor- 
rows, the  pangs,  and  anguish,  which  our  adored  Redeemer 
bore  for  us  on  the  cross,  and  entreat  that  a  drop  of  that 
precious  blood  there  shed  may  fall  on  you  to  enlighten, 
strengthen,  and  support  your  soul  in  this  life  and  insure 
its  eterna.  salvation  in  the  next.  He  knows  all  our  weak- 
ness and  the  failings  of  our  hearts.  As  the  father  pitiea 
his  own  children  he  pities  us,  and  has  himself  declared 
that  he  never  will  forsake  the  soul  that  confides  in  his 
name." 

In  this  communication  Mrs.  Seton  exhorts  her  beloved 
relative  in  a  particular  manner  to  pray,  and  in  this  spirit  to 
offer  her  sufferings  in  union  with  those  of  the  Son  of  God, 
because  she  knew  well  that  fervent  and  persevering  prayer 
is  never  rejected  by  the  Almighty,  and  would  be  the  surest 
means  of  obtaining  for  her  sister  the  graces  which  her  situa- 
tion needed.  But  as  her  illness  was  growing  worse,  and  she 
had  as  yet  taken  no  decisive  step  for  the  change  of  her  re- 
ligion, Mrs.  Seton  began  to  fear  lest  she  herself  had  been  de- 
ficient in  doing  what  duty  required  for  the  conversion  of 
her  sister;  and,  surrounded  as  the  invalid  was  by  her  Protest- 
ant connections,  who  could  not  endure  the  mention  of 
Catholicity  among  them,  she  was  at  a  loss  to  know  precisely 
how  to  act  under  these  circumstances.  She  therefore  ap- 
plied for  advice  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cheverus,  who  sent  her  the 
following  answer: — 

BOSTON,  January  26,  1806 

DEAR  MADAM: — 

"I  must  tell  you  first  that  your  conscience  ought  to  be 
free  from  scruples  about  the  past,  since  you  have  done  in 


184  THE    LITE    Of 

regard  to  your  interesting  sister  every  thing  which  you 
thought  discretion  and  prudence  could  allow. 

"In  her  present  situation  is  it  your  duty  to  go  farther? 
I  am  at  a  loss  myself  how  to  give  an  answer  to  this  question. 
I  have  for  these  few  days  consulted  in  prayer  the  Father  of 
lights;  I  have  endeavored  to  place  myself  in  your  situation 
Here  is  the  result,  which,  hcwever,  I  propose  to  you  with 
the  utmost  diffidence. 

"  Neither  the  obstacles  you  mention,  nor  the  sickly  state 
of  the  dear  child,  permit  to  instruct  her  in  points  of  contro- 
versy. What  you  have  told  her  till  now  appears  to  me 
nearly  sufficient.*  I  would  recall  to  her,  when  opportunities 
should  offer,  the  amiable  and  pious  wish  of  living  one  day 
in  a  convent  and  there  to  become  a  member  of  the  Church. 
Should  she  ask  any  questions,  I  would  answer  her  in  few 
words  without  entering  into  the  particular  merits  of  the  ques- 
tion,— telling  her  that  when  she  is  better  you  would  examine 
those  matters  together;  that  at  present  it  is  enough  to 
know  Jesus  and  him  crucified;  to  put  all  her  trust  in  him, 
to  suffer  with  him,  &c.;  ...  to  wish  to  become  a  member 
of  his  Church.  Which  church  is  his?  she  will  perhaps  say. 
Answer:  The  Catholic,  because  the  most  ancient,  &c.  If 
•he  asks  no  questions,  I  would  confine  myself  to  what  yea 
have  said  to  her  before.  It  is  important  that  you  may  con- 
tinue to  visit  her.  Every  thing  that  would  put  an  end  to 
your  intercourse  with  her  must  be  avoided. 

"  The  most  embarrassing  circumstance  will  be  when  you 
see  her  near  the  period  of  the  fatal  disorder.  Then,  per- 
haps, you  will  be  with  her  oftener  and  alone.  Let  the  ICTO 
of  our  adorable  Saviour  in  his  sacrament  and  on  the  crow 
be  the  subject  of  your  discourse.  You  might  also  mentioi 


•  She  had  probably  learned  from  Mrs.  Seton  the  principal  points  of 
Catholic  doctrine. 


MRS.   E.    A.   8ETON  185 

the  anointing  of  the  sick  in  St.  James,  and  if  she  desires 
it,  and  it  can  be  done,  procure  to  her  the  blessing  of  re- 
ceiving the  last  sacraments.  Could  they  be  hard-hearted 
enough  to  refuse  such  a  request,  and  at  such  a  time  ?  The 
whole  weight  of  their  displeasure  will  fall  upon  you,  but 
God  has  given  you  strength  to  bear  it,  and  will  make  rich 
amends  by  his  interior  consolations.  It  is  probable,  how- 
ever, that  you  will  not  find  an  opportunity  of  accomplishing 
this.  Should  it  unhappily  be  the  case,  you  will  have  no- 
thing to  reproach  yourself  with ;  for  if  you  attempt  to  do 
more  than  the  above,  it  is  almost  certain  that  you  will  be 
hindered  from  doing  any  thing  at  all. 

"  Your  beloved  sister  has  been  made  by  baptism  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church.  Wilful  error,  I  have  reason  to  think, 
has  never  separated  her  from  that  sacred  body.  Her  sin- 
gular innocence  of  mind  and  ardent  piety  have  also,  very 
likely,  preserved  her  from  offending  God  in  any  grievous 
manner;  and  I  hope,  in  consequence,  that  even  if  she  can- 
not receive  the  sacraments  she  will  be  a  member  of  the 
triumphant  Church  in  heaven,  although  it  would  be  to 
her  an  unspeakable  advantage  to  receive  the  sacraments, 
and  would  render  her  salvation  more  secure.  Dreadful  in- 
deed is  the  situation  of  those  who,  being  cut  off  from  the 
Church,  or  having  offended  the  Almighty,  depart  from  this 
world  without  those  heavenly  remedies  which  the  Church 
has  in  store  for  her  dying  children.  Happy  those  who  like 
you  feel  their  heart  warm,  and  abound  with  joy  and  peace 
in  the  breaking  of  the  heavenly  bread,  in  the  celebration 
of  the  holy  festivals." 

By  this  wise  direction  Mrs.  Seton  was  equally  consoled 
and  instructed  in  the  course  she  was  to  pursue.  She  waa 
to  make  every  effort  consistent  with  a  discreet  and  enlight- 
ened zeal  to  procure  for  her  beloved  relative  the  consola- 
tions of  the  sacraments;  but,  in  the  event  of  this  being 


186  THE    LIFE    Olf 

impracticable,  she  was  to  suggest  to  her  suffering  friend 
such  considerations  as,  with  the  ho.lp  of  divine  grace,  would 
awaken  in  her  heart  sentiments  of  perfect  love  and  contri- 
tion, and  thus  prepare  her  for  a  happy  death.  It  pleased 
the  Almighty,  however,  to  raise  her  from  the  bed  of  sick- 
ness  and  afford  her  an  opportunity  of  paying  a  more  signal 
homage  to  the  truth,  of  which  he  has  made  his  holy  Church 
the  depositary.  After  her  recovery,  Miss  Seton  turned  her 
attention  more  particularly  to  the  examination  of  this  sub- 
ject, and,  in  defiance  of  the  most  violeat  opposition  on  the 
part  of  her  relatives,  she  at  length  resolved  to  abandon  the 
errors  in  which  she  had  been  educated,  and  to  embrace  the 
Catholic  faith.  No  effort  was  left  untried  to  dissuade  her 
from  this  step;  and  such  was  the  blind  and  determined 
zeal  excited  against  her,  that  her  connections  kept  her  in 
close  confinement  for  several  days,  threatening  every  extra- 
vagance they  could  think  of;  for  instance,  that  she  should 
not  live  with  the  corrupter  of  her  mind,  (Mrs.  Seton,)  even 
if  she  did  become  a  Catholic,  but  be  sent  away  to  the  West 
Indies,  in  a  vessel  then  ready  for  the  voyage ;  that  she 
would  cause  the  destruction  of  Mrs.  Seton  and  deprive  her 
children  of  bread;  and  that,  if  no  shorter  way  presented 
itself,  they  would  petition  the  legislature  to  remove  Mrs. 
Seton  out  of  the  State,  &c.  But  Miss  Cecilia,  fully  alivo 
to  the  importance  of  the  subject,  and  well  persuaded  that 
no  considerations  whatever  should  be  suffered  to  interfere 
with  her  duty  to  God,  was  prepared  to  make  every  sacrifice 
in  order  to  obey  the  :all  of  divine  grace.  The  Almighty 
supported  her  courage  in  a  peculiar  manner  during  hei 
trial,  nerving  her  against  the  fiercest  opposition,  and,  after 
due  preparation,  she  was  admitted  into  the  true  Church  on 
the  20th  of  June,  1806. 

•  The  consequences  of  this  step  were,  in  a  temporal  point 
of  view,  most  painful.     All  her  friends  abandoned  her,  and 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETOW.  187 

left  her  unprovided  for  in  the  world ;  and  for  a  generous 
and  affectionate  heart  like  hers,  and  for  a  young  person  in 
the  bloom  of  youth,  being  only  fourteen  years  of  age,  of 
delicate  health,  and  the  favorite  of  her  family,  it  is  difficult 
to  conceive  how  cruel  must  have  been  the  pang  that  thus 
severed  the  ties  of  nature.  But  the  Almighty  seems  to 
have  selected  her  as  an  occasion  of  signalizing  his  tender 
mercies  and  displaying  the  wondrous  efficacy  of  his  grace. 
She  regretted  the  loss  of  friends  who  had  always  been  deal 
to  her;  but  well  convinced  that  her  friends  and  relatives 
could  not  justify  her  at  the  tribunal  of  God,  if  she  resisted 
the  known  truth  and  the  inspirations  of  divine  grace,  she 
accounted  all  the  considerations  of  flesh  and  blood  as  worth- 
less in  comparison  with  the  securing  of  her  eternal  interests, 
and  resolutely  declared  to  her  family  that  she  had  become  a 
Catholic,  and  that  nothing  would  ever  break  the  bonds  that 
united  her  to  the  true  Church.  Her  conduct  throughout 
this  trying  ordeal  evinced  a  heroism  worthy  of  the  bright- 
est days  of  Christianity.  Excluded  from  the  protection  of 
her  relatives,  who  solemnly  avowed  that  she  should  never 
re-enter  their  houses  or  be  suffered  to  associate  with  her 
family,  Miss  Seton  sought  a  refuge  under  the  humble  but 
hospitable  roof  of  her  sister-in-law.  Here  she  was  welcomed 
with  open  arms;  and  these  two  pious  and  fervent  souls 
found,  in  the  enjoyment  of  each  other's  society,  a  support 
under  the  heavy  crosses  which  they  had  to  endure,  and  a 
mutual  encouragement  to  the  faithful  and  constant  practice 
of  duty.  The  reception  of  the  youthful  convert  into  her 
house,  although  a  matter  of  duty  for  Mrs.  Seton  under  ex- 
isting circumstances,  became  the  occasion  of  increased  aver- 
sion for  her  on  the  part  of  her  connections.  Some  of  them 
would  not  permit  even  their  children  to  speak  to  her  or  hers, 
while  others  barely  allowed  her  to  enter  their  dwellings. 
Even  they  who  professed  tc  be  the  ministers  of  charity, 


188  THE    LIFE    OF 

Bishop  Moore  and  Rev.  Mr.  Hobart,  her  former  pastora, 
arrayed  themselves  against  her,  and,  through  bigotry  or  in- 
terest, called  upOQ  those  who  might  have  assisted  her  in  her 
establishment,  and  warned  them  against  having  any  commu- 
nication with  her.  In  this  state  of  things,  all  the  energy 
of  her  soul  was  brought  into  requisition.  Her  life  was  a 
continual  sacrifice  and  suffering,  for  which,  however,  ehe 
was  strengthened  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  by  the  sympathy 
and  counsels  of  the  new  class  of  friends  who  had  gathered 
around  her.  Soon  after  the  conversion  of  Miss  Cecilia,  Dr. 
Matignon,  of  Boston,  addressed  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Seton,  ex- 
pressive of  the  high  regard  which  he  entertained  for  her, 
and  encouraging  her  to  continue  faithful  in  the  new  paths 
which  the  Almighty  had  marked  out  to  her.  "  Your  per- 
severance," he  says,  ^and  the  help  of  grace,  will  finish 
in  you  the  work  which  God  has  commenced,  and  will  render 
you,  I  trust,  the  means  of  effecting  the  conversion  of  many 
others.  You  already  experience  much  consolation  in  the 
step  taken  by  your  dear  sister,  who  has  been  led  not  less  by 
your  example  than  by  the  maladies  and  afflictions  dispensed 
from  Heaven,  to  embrace  with  so  much  fervor  the  only  way 
to  eternal  life.  The  determination  she  evinced  in  this  affair, 
being  yet  so  young,  and  despite  the  serious  difficulties  she 
had  to  contend  with,  is  most  assuredly,  as  you  say,  a  visible 
wonder  of  divine  grace.  Though  deprived  of  all  human 
assistance,  or,  at  least,  debarrgd  the  aid  she  has  need  of,  Al- 
mighty Qod  will  not  abandon  her,  and  your  prayers  will  not 
be  vain.  May  you  soon  have  the  same  happiness  in  the  two 
cherished  beings  whom  you  mention  with  so  much  hope  !* 
»  The  pleasures  as  well  as  the  troubles  of  this  world  pass  very 
rapidly;  happy  they  who  love  their  friends  only  in  God, 

*  Two  sisters-in-law  of  Mrs.  Seton,  who  were  favorably  disposed  to- 
ward the  Catholic  faith,  and  one  of  whom  subsequently  embraced  it,  M 
will  Appear  in  the  sequel. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  189 

and  who  hope  with  reason  to  meet  each  other  hereafter  io 
his  eternal  kingdom." 

Among  the  chief  sources  of  comfort  which  Mrs.  Seton 
enjoyed  in  her  affliction  was  the  society  of  the  pious, 
amiable,  and  accomplished  family  of  Mr.  James  Barry,  a  re- 
spectable merchant  of  New  York.  With  all  the  warmth 
and  generosity  of  the  Irish  character,  they  united  a  spirit 
of  religion  and  blandness  of  manner  which  entitled  them 
to  universal  respect  and  esteem.  They  were  honored  with 
the  particular  friendship  of  Bishop  Carroll.  Mrs.  Seton 
was  a  frequent  visitor  at  their  residence,  where  she  was 
always  welcome,  and  often  enjoyed  their  bounteous  and  cor- 
dial hospitality ;  at  the  same  time  availing  herself  of  their 
intelligence  and  piety  to  seek  advice  in  the  moment  of 
need.  These  attentions  which  she  received  from  the  Barry 
family  were  always  gratefully  remembered.  In  writing  to 
a  friend  about  this  time,  she  alludes  with  a  spirit  of  thank- 
fulness to  the  "Barrys,  whose  tenderness  and  attention  to 
the  poor  fanatic,"  she  says,  "are  my  sweetest  earthly 
pleasure." 

From  her  corespondence  with  the  Messrs.  Filicchi  she 
also  derived  much  comfort  and  encouragement.  Writing 
to  her  from  London,  November  3,  1806,  in  answer  to  a 
letter  from  her,  in  which  she  probably  mentioned  the  in- 
creased opposition  on  the  part  of  her  family,  Mr.  Antonio 
sends  her  the  most  fervent  exhortation  to  persevere  in  the 
noble  fortitude  which  she  had  already  displayed.  '  "  If 
blessed  are  those  who  are  in  tears,"  he  &ays,  "  you,  my  be- 
loved sister,  are  blessed  indeed.  Courage  and  perseverance  1 
The  crown  of  everlasting  glory  awaits  only  those,  you  know, 
whc  persevere  to  the  end.  .  .  Pray  for  your  persecutors. 
Your  forbearance,  your  fortitude,  your  charity,  your  piety, 
will  put  them  to  the  blush  at  last.  If  not,  God  and  I  are 
your  protectors — of  whom  shouldst  thou  be  afraid  ?"&  The 


190  THE    LIFE    Of 

intelligence  of  his  safe  arrival  in  Leghorn,  in  the  midst  of 
his  family,  filled  her  heart  with  jjy  and  gratitude,  and  she 
hastened  to  spread  the  news  among  her  friends.  "What 
could  I  do,"  she  writes  to  him,  "but  say  Tc  Deums;  first 
carry  the  letter  to  Mrs.  Barry,  then  to  Mr.  Hurley,  or  rather 
to  our  family  of  pastors,  who  shared  my  joy,  gave  thanks  foi 
your  escape,  and  admired  that  Providence  who  provides  sucb 
a  brother  foi  the  poor  little  forsaken  woman,  and  permitted 
her  to  go  the  next  morning  to  communion,  to  offer  the 
thanksgiving  of  inestimable  value  ?  With  my  whole  soul  I 
did  so.''  The  escape  to  which  she  alludes  was  a  provi- 
dential deliverance  of  Mr.  Filicchi  from  a  most  perilous 
situation  while  crossing  the  Alps  on  his  way  to  Italy.  The 
account  of  this  circumstance,  which  he  sent  to  Mrs.  Seton, 
is  equally  honorable  to  his  piety  as  a  Christian,  and  indi- 
cative of  the  profound  veneration  which  he  entertained  foi 
her  character  as  a  servant  of  God. 

i  "On  the  dreadful  summit  of  Mount  Cenis,  on  the  Alps, 
on  my  way  into  Italy,  I  truly  did  attribute  to  the  efficacy 
of  your  prayers  in  my  behalf  the  preservation  of  mj  limbs 
and  life.  I  was  in  the  diligence,  or  mail-stage  with  four 
wheels  and  four  horses,  descending  the  mountain  in  a  dark, 
wintry  night,  blowing  and  snowing,  and  every  thing  around 
us  covered  with  snow.  We  had  a  light  to  guide  our  path  j 
but  on  a  sudden,  by  the  carelessness  of  our  driver,  the  light 
was  put  out,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  the  most  imminent 
danger  of  missing  our  way  and  falling  over  the  precipice 
The  driver  declared  that  he  was  not  able  to  discern  his 
path.  We  were  all  in  the  pangs  of  death.  We  could  not 
•light,  we  could  not  walk  in  the  depth  of  the  snow,  we  could 
not  expect  any  human  succor,  and  were  forced  to  go  on, 
trembling  at  each  step  of  our  horses,  as  if  about  to  tumbla 
down  into  the  abyss.  A  French  lady,  our  fellow-traveller 
with  an  officer,  was  in  a  fit  of  convulsions,*when  most  unex- 


ME8.   E.   A.   8ETON.  191 

t  pectedly  a  lantern  appeared  of  a  poor  shepherd  coming  up 
rttfi  mountain  as  a  guardian  angel  to  save  us.  It  was  on 
Monday  night,  the  8th  of  December,  the  day  of  the  festival 
of  our  Blessed  Lady's  Conception,  t  Early  in  that  morning, 
they  had  all  laughed  at  my  going  to  mass ;  but  fear  drew 
afterward  ftom  their  lips,  against  their  will,  the  awful  ac- 
knowledgment of  their  forsaken  principles  of  religion.  *  1 
looked  immediately  on  you  as  my  principal  intercessor,  ana 
you  must  have  had  certainly  a  great  share  in  my  deliver- 
ance. What  wonder,  then,  in  my  readiness  to  be  service- 
able to  you  ?  Through  your  good  example,  they  find  me 
novr  a  better  Christian  than  I  was,  and  through  you  my 
mercantile  concerns  are  blessed  by  God  with  an  uninter- 
rupted success.  I  shall  not  therefore  be  so  foolish  as  to  de- 
sert your  cause.  Pray  only  our  Divine  Redeemer  to  extend 
his  mercy  toward  me,  for  the  most  important  welfare  in  our 
next  life.  If  1  have  been  happy  enough  to  be  the  instru- 
ment of  introducing  you  to  the  gate  of  the  true  Church  of 
Christ  here  below,  keep  me  fast  by  you  when  called  up 
stairs  :  we  must  enter  together  into  heaven.  Amen."  To 
realize  this  blessed  hope  was  the  object  of  Mrs.  Seton's 
ardent  prayers. 

Amid  the  difficulties  of  her  position  she  was  comforted 
especially  by  the  expressions  of  regard  and  friendship  which 
she  received  from  Bishop  Carroll  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cheverus.  • 
•The  former,  writing  to  her,  under  date  of  May  23,  1807, 
after  giving  his  opinion  on  a  matter  of  business,  thus  speaks 
of  her  and  her  situation  : — "  I  would  add,  if  you  stood  the 
least  in  need  of  any  motives  which  I  could  suggest,  my  er 
courageinent  to  you  to  persevere  in  the  exercise  of  your  con 
stancy,  under  the  trials  to  which  you  have  been  subjected 
since  our  separation  *   Though  you  are  persecuted  for  obey- 

*  He  bad  administered  confirmation  in  New  York,  in  May  of  the  pr* 
••ding  year. 


192  THE    LIFE     Or 

ing  the  dictates  of  your  conscience,  and  are  not  allowed  to 
speak  with  freedom  to  persons  dear  and  closely  allied  to  you, 
yet  your  example,  and  patient,  I  may  add,  joyful  suffering, 
must  produce  and  have  already  worked  their  effect  on  the 
consciences  of  them  who  place  a  higher  value  on  their  salva- 
tion than  all  earthly  things.  _  For  your  perseverance  I  feel 
no  apprehension ;  but  great  is  my  solicitude  for  those  who 
are  debarred  from  receiving  the  instruction  you  could  so 
well  give  them,  and  deprived  of  the  bread  of  life ;  but  still 
I  trust  in  God's  fatherly  goodness  toward  them,  who  is  so 
able  to  counteract  the  impediments  and  delusions  which 
human  prudence  or  errors  cast  in  the  way  of  his  favored  ser- 
vants.'^ He  then  begs  to  be  remembered  by  her  children, 
to  whose  "innocent  prayers"  he  attaches  great  importance. 

t  Bishop  Carroll,  although  he  gave  Mrs.  Seton  the  strongest 
evidences  of  the  high  esteem  which  he  had  for  her,  was 
careful  to  maintain  her  in  the  path  of  humility, 'convinced 
that  by  this  means  only  could  she  be  preserved  from  spi- 

»  ritual  shipwreck.  He  therefore  tells  her : — "  Whatever  I 
learn  or  hear  of  you  increases  my  solicitude,  respect,  and 
admiration.  But  attribute  no  merit  to  yourself  on  this  ac- 
count. »  Whatever  is  estimable  in  you,  either  by  nature  yi 
grace,  is  God's  gift  and  his  property ;  and  it  is  beneath  the 
dignity  of  a  Christian,  who  has  ever  meditated  on  the  folly 
as  well  as  the  criminality  of  pride,  to  glory  in  that  which 
belongs  not  to  him.",  , 

During  his  stay  in  New  York,  Mrs.  Seton  found  a  faith- 
ful friend  in  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hurley,  who,  as  she  expresses  itj 
was  "rigid  and  severe  in  a  calm,  but,  whenever  she  had  any 
trouble,  most  indulgent  and  compassionate."  She  knew 
well  how  to  appreciate  the  good-will  and  kind  assistance  of 
him  and  so  many  others  who  were  truly  interested  in  her 
real  happiness.  In  the  midst  of  friends  whom  religion  had 
substituted  for  those  whom  the  world  had  taken  away,  the 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETOtf.  193 

bitterness  of  her  trials  seemed  to  be  forgotten,  and  her  BOU! 
enjoyed  a  delightful  peace.  She  thus  alludes  to  this  sub- 
ject in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi : — "  Upon  my  word, 
it  is  very  pleasant  to  have  the  name  of  being  persecuted, 
and  yet  enjoy  the  sweetest  favors ;  to  be  poor  and  wretched, 
and  yet  be  rich  and  happy;  neglected  and  forsaken,  yet 
cherished  and  tenderly  indulged  by  God's  most  favored 
servants  and  friends.  If  now  your  sister  did  not  wear 
her  most  cheerful  and  contented  countenance  she  would  be 
indeed  a  hypocrite.  'Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always.'  lle- 
joice,  rejoice." 

Animated  with  such  sentiments,  Mrs.  Seton's  constant 
effort  was,  according  to  the  advice  of  the  apostle,  to  "  over- 
come evil  with  good,"  and,  by  showing  in  her  actions  the 
excellence  of  the  faith  to  which  she  had  been  admitted,  to 
subdue  the  unchristian  spirit  arrayed  against  her.  Her 
sister  Cecilia  walked  closely  in  her  footsteps,  adhering  faith- 
fully to  the  advice  of  her  spiritual  directors,  to  illustrate  in 
her  conduct  and  in  the  purity  of  her  life  the  beauty  of  that 
religion  which  she  had  embraced.  The  instruction  which 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Hurley  gave  her  on  this  subject*  will  be  useful 
to  all  who  read  it  in  a  spirit  of  Christian  submission.  After 
alluding  to  the  happiness  of  serving  Grod,  he  says  : — "  It  is 
this  which  you  are  in  quest  of,  and  which,  being  humble 
of  heart,  you  will  assuredly  find.  Your  setting  out  in  this 
pursuit  was  strongly  marked  with  the  divine  predilection ; 
and,  as  it  was  then  my  duty  to  observe  it,  the  same  duty 
now  compels  me  to  remind  you  of  it,  and  to  admonish  you 
that  in  all  things  you  give  proof  of  the  sanctity  of  your 
vocation,  and  vindicate,  by  your  exemplary  conduct,  by  your 
submission,  your  humility  and  patience,  that  holy  religion 
into  whose  mysteries  you  have  been  now  so  long  initiated. 


*  In  a  letter  from  Philadelphia,  dated  August  29,  1807 
17  N 


194  THE    LIFE    OF 

'  Look  at  our  conduct/  was  the  almost  only  answer  which  the 
primitive  Christians  made  to  their  calumniators  :  in  fact,  it 
proved  to  be  such  as  to  leave  no  place  for  a  rejoinder.  The 
arguments  which  they  deduced  from  their  sublimated  morals, 
in  favor  of  their  faith,  were  nearly  irrefragable,  as  we  may 
judge  from  the  wonderful  progress  it  made.  Alas  !  cor.  Id 
we  but  say  so  now,  what  converts  would  we  not  see  !  ho* 
many  returning  to  the  fold  of  Christ !  ( But  God  is  wonder 
ful  in  all  his  ways.  He  has  put  it  in  your  power  to  magnify 
the  wonders  of  his  mercy,  and  let  me  exhort  you  not  to  neg- 
lect it.  To  doubt  of  your  doing  so,  as  also  of  your  perse- 
verance, I  dare  not.  The  thought  itself  I  would  banish  from 
my  mind  as  a  temptation.  I  Your  deportment  throughout 
the  entire  of  those  vicissitudes  with  which  '  the  Orient  from 
on  high  hath  visited  you,'  precludes  any  such  unhallowed 
idea.  But  we  never  can  be  too  cautious,  nor  as  circumspect 
»s  our  vocation  in  Christ  Jesus  would  require.  »  The  path 
which  you  have  so  gloriously  entered  is  at  the  best  an  ardu- 
ous one,  and  bestrewed  with  difficulties  which  life  alone  will 
end  with.  In  meeting  them  we  have  indeed  this  great  con- 
solation : — that  our  Model  met  them  before  us ;  that  he  fore- 
warned his  disciples  that  all  who  should  truly  desire  to  serve 
aim  would  encounter  them  also ;§  that  they  are  the  only  sure, 
unerring  vehicles  to  transepulchral  regions,  and  that  by 
tolerating  them  future  glory  should  be  revealed  to  us.  I  And 
what  consolation  tantamount  to  that  which  flows  from  the 
very  source  of  every  good  ?  from  that  fount  which  rises  unto 
life  everlasting,  and  from  which  alone  we  can  draw  rortn 
with  joy  and  gladness  ?  You,  my  dear  child,  have  explored 
even  the  head  of  this  spring.  You  have  participated  of  its 
pellucid  waters,  and  have  experienced  its  exhilarating,  subli- 
mating effects.  Perhaps  I  have  been  your  guide  to  it ;  nay, 
have  administered  to  you  its  refreshing  portions.  If  so,  let 
me  have  the  comfort,  both  here  and  hereafter,  to  find  that 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  195 

my  subserviency  has  been  profitable,  has  been  effectual.  Re 
member  the  17th  of  June.*  It  stands  recorded  in  heaven 
and  must  be  in  your  heart.  Meritless  as  I  am,  witness  of 
the  transactions  of  that  day,  others  bear  witness  likewise 
When  we  shall  be  called  upon,  may  we  be  found  side- 
wide  1" 

*  By  a  strict  observance  of  the  excellent  counsels  here  im- 
parted, Miss  Seton  became  "a  beautiful  ornament"  of  the 
religion  which  she  professed,  and  eventually  regained  the 
admiration  even  of  those  who  thought  her  wisdom  folly.  A 
.ady  of  her  acquaintance,  who  was  much  attached  to  her, 
saving  become  dangerously  ill,  she  visited  her  daily,  and 
nursed  her  with  the  most  assiduous  care."}"  Here  it  was,  at 
the  deathbed  of  a  common  friend,  that  Miss  Seton  had  an 
opportunity  of  meeting  her  relatives;  and  such  was  the  sweet 
submissiveness  of  manner  and  prudence  of  behavior  exhibited 
by  her  on  this  occasion,  that  she  completely  conquered  the 
opposition  of  her  family,  who  all  invited  her  to  return  among 
them.  •  If  Mrs.  Seton  did  not  experience  the  same  partial 
justice  at  their  hands,  it  was  not  from  a  want  of  charitable 
and  kind  deportment  in  their  regard.  When,  in  the  circum- 
stance just  related,  or  at  other  times,  she  met  with  those  of 
her  connections  who  had  placed  themselves  in  a  hostile  posi- 
tion, she  manifested  the  same  cordiality  and  affection  as  if 
she  had  no  cause  for  complaint.  But  what  was  denied  on 


*  According  to  her  own  statement,  she  was  "  united  to  the  Catholic 
Church  on  the  20th  of  June,  1806."  Mr.  Hurley  may  have  mistaken  the 
precise  date,  or  he  refers  to  some  religious  act  different  from  that  which 
Miss  Seton  designates  as  her  admission  into  the  Church. 

f  Mrs.  Seton  also  assisted  this  lady  in  her  last  momenta,  and  thus 
•peaks  of  her  departure  from  this  world : — "Oh,  how  awful !  without  prayer, 
with  out  sacrament,  without  faith!  Terrified,  impatient,  wretched !  How 
shal.  we  ever  praise  enough  that  mercy  which  has  placed  u§  in  th« 
bosom  of  our  mother!" 


196  THE    LIFE    OF 

» the  part  of  her  family  she  found  in  the  quiet  and  peaceful 
enjoyment  of  her  religion;  so  much  so  that  she  wore  a  con- 
tented and  joyful  countenance,  and  appeared  to  have  lost 
nothing,  even  for  this  world,  by  the  sacrifices  which  con- 
science had  compelled  her  to  make.  In  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Philip  Filicchi,  who  had  so  effectually  aided  her  by  his  en- 
lightened instructions  in  the  investigation  of  Catholic  truth, 
she  describes  in  a  forcible  manner  the  happiness  she  pos- 
sessed under  all  her  difficulties,  and  the  continual  efforts 
which  she  made  for  the  sanctification  of  her  soul. 

"  It  is  best,"  she  says,  "  to  be  obliged  to  conquer  the 
principle  most  apt  to  blind  me  in  my  pursuit;  and  my  daily 
object  is  to  keep  close  to  your  first  advice,  (with  St.  Francis,), 
to  take  every  event  gently  and  quietly,  and  oppose  good- 
nature and  cheerfulness  to  every  contradiction;  which  suc- 
ceeds so  well  that  now  it  is  an  acknowledged  opinion  that 
Mrs.  William  Seton  is  in  a  very  happy  situation,  and  Mr. 
Wilkes  says,  speaking  of  his  professions,  'Yet  Providence 
does  not  do  so  much  for  me  as  for  you,  as  it  makes  you  happy 
and  contented  in  every  situation.'  Yet — indeed  how  can  he 
build  who  has  not  the  Rock  for  his  foundation  ?  But  Mrs. 
William  Seton  is  obliged  to  watch  every  moment  to  keep  up 
the  reality  of  this  appearence.  You  know,  Filicchi,  what 
it  costs  to  be  always  humble  and  satisfied,  though  when  this 
disposition  is  familiarized  it  is  the  true  treasure.  Do — do 
pray  continually  for  that  soul  whose  salvation  has  already 
cost  you  so  much  care.  » While  enjoying  the  greatest  happi- 
ness on  earth,  which  I  obtain  sometimes  three  times  a  week, 
(the  weather  and  children  sometimes  deprive,)  imagine  the 
effusions  of  warm  and  ardent  affections  at  that  moment  of 
grateful  joy  and  triumph,  conscious  that  nothing  on  earth 
can  add  to  or  take  from  this  infinite  good  which  supplies  the 
place  of  all  other  to  the  confiding  soul,  whose  very  desolation 
in  human  possessions  is  the  best  foundation  for  this  unfail- 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  197 

ing  happiness.  And  then,  how  came  this  knowledge  to  my 
soul  ?  whose  blessed  hands  guided  it  to  its  only  treasure  ? 
who  encouraged  it  when  sinking,  and  drew  it  on  when  afraid 
of  its  own  salvation  ?  And  my  darling  children — I  teach 
them  to  consider  you  too  the  source  of  all  our  consolation." 
As  a  truly  Christian  mother,  Mrs.  Seton  allowed  nothing, 
aftei  the  salvation  of  her  own  soul,  to  occupy  so  important  a 
place  in  her  thoughts  and  plans  as  the  spiritual  welfare  of 
her  children. «  They  had  entered  with  her  into  the  fold  of 
truth;  and  she  taught  them,  both  by  word  and  example,  to 
prize  this  gift  of  faith  above  every  worldly  consideration. 
So  natural  and  affectionate  was  the  manner  in  which  she 
endeavored  to  impress  upon  their  youthful  minds  the  obliga- 
tion of  serving  God,  that  it  could  not  fail  to  produce  its 
full  effect.  (Religion  and  duty  were  subjects  not  reserved 
only  for  the  class  of  catechism  or  the  moment  of  prayer; 
they  were  frequently  suggested  to  their  attention.  From 
the  words  of  the  parent,  exhaling  on  every  befitting  occasion 
the  spirit  of  fervent  piety,  her  offspring  imbibed  a  love  of 
virtue,  and  learned  how  to  appreciate  its  inestimable  bless- 
ings. Nothing  can  surpass  the  admirable  tact  with  which 
Mrs.  Seton  conciliated  the  warm  affection  of  her  children, 
and  directed  her  influence  over  them  to  the  glory  of  God 
and  their  personal  sauctificatiou.  Her  language  was  such 
as  to  inspire  them  with  noble  sentiments  and  virtuous  aspi- 
rations; to  make  them  sensible  that  their  highest  reward 
was  to  be  found  in  the  good-will  of  a  loving  parent,  and  in 
the  consciousness  of  having  fulfilled  their  duty  to  Almighty 
God.  •  In  answering  a  note  which  she  had  received  from  her 
eldest  daughter,  then  ten  years  of  age,  she  says: — "Your 
little  letter  gave  joy  to  my  heart,  which  loves  you  more  than 
I  can  express,  and  earnestly  prays  to  our  dear  Lord  Jesus  to 
bless  you  and  make  you  his  own."  On  another  occasion, 
while  her  dauhter  was  receivin  instructions  from  the  Rev. 


198  THE    LIFE    OF 

Mr.  Hurley,  probably  as  a  preparation  for  ber  first  com. 
munion,  Mrs.  Seton  wrote  to  ber  in  tbe  following  words : — 

"MY  DARLING   DAUGHTER: — 

"You  must  not  be  uneasy  at  not  seeing  me  either  yester- 
day or  to-day.  To-morrow  I  hope  to  bold  you  to  my  heart, 
which  prays  for  you  incessantly  that  God  may  give  you 
grace  to  use  well  the  precious  hours  of  this  week;  and,  I  re- 
peat, you  have  it  in  your  power  to  make  me  the  happiest 
of  mothers,  and  to  be  my  sweet  comfort  through  every  sor- 
row, or  to  occasion  the  heaviest  affliction  to  my  poor  soul 
that  it  can  meet  with  in  this  world;  and,  as  your  example 
will  have  the  greatest  influence  on  your  dear  little  sisters 
also,  and  you  do  not  know  how  soon  you  may  be  in  the  place 
of  their  mother  to  them,  your  doing  your  duty  faithfully  ig 
of  the  greatest  consequence,  besides  what  you  owe  to  God 
and  your  own  soul.  .  .  .  Pray  him,  supplicate  him,  to  make 
you  his  own.  .  .  .  Remember  that  Mr.  Hurley  is  now  in  the 
place  of  God  to  you :  receive  his  instructions  as  from  heaven, 
as  no  doubt  your  dear  Saviour  has  appointed  them  as  the 
means  of  bringing  you  there." 

The  piety,  fervor,  and  unction  of  this  maternal  exhorta- 
tion sufficiently  indicate  the  ardor  and  purity  of  the  love 
that  dictated  it.  Mrs.  Seton's  great  ambition  and  happiness 
was  to  educate  her  children  as  faithful  followers  of  Jesus 
Christ.  With  this  view  her  two  sons,  as  we  have  before 
stated,  were  placed  at  Georgetown  College,  their  location  at 
Montreal  being  then  impracticable.  But  it  had  always  been 
the  wish  of  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi,  their  generous  friend  and 
benefactor,  that  they  should  be  raised  at  the  institution  in 
Montreal ;  and  he  gave  their  mother  a  distant  hope  that  she 
herself,  with  her  little  girls,  might  be  admitted  into  a  convent 
there,  and  employ  her  talents  in  the  instruction  of  youth( 


MRS.   E.   A.   SETON.  199 

while  her  children  would  have  the  facility  of  being  tho- 
roughly trained  in  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  the  Catholic 
religion.  This  hope  Mrs.  Seton  indulged  rather  as  a  delight- 
ful dream  than  as  a  prospect  to  be  subsequently  realized, 
because  it  appeared  to  her  too  much  happiness  to  be  enjoyed 
during  her  earthly  pilgrimage.  But  her  thoughts  were 
more  practically  directed  to  it  by  the  Rev.  William  Valen- 
tino Dubourg,  President  of  St.  Mary's  College  in  Baltimore. 
He  became  acquainted  with  her  in  the  following  way.  Hav- 
ing visited  the  city  of  New  York  in  the  autumn  of  1806,  he 
was  one  .morning  offering  up  the  holy  sacrifice  of  mass  in  St. 
Peter's  Church,  when  a  lady  presented  herself  at  the  com- 
munion-rail, and,  bathed  in  tears,  received  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment at  his  hands.  He  was  struck  with  the  uncommon 
deportment  and  piety  of  the  communicant,  and  when  after- 
ward seated  at  the  breakfast-table  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sibourd, 
one  of  the  pastors  of  the  Church,  he  inquired  who  she  was, 
rightly  judging  in  his  mind  that  it  was  Mrs.  Seton,  of  whose 
conversion  and  edifying  life  he  had  been  informed.  Before 
Mr.  Sibourd  had  time  to  answer  his  question,  a  gentle  tap 
at  the  door  was  heard,  and  the  next  moment  Mrs.  Seton  was 
introduced,  and  knelt  before  the  priest  of  God  to  receive  his 
blessing.  Entering  into  conversation  with  her  respecting 
her  sons  and  her  intentions  in  their  regard,  he  learned  from 
her  the  views  and  wishes  of  Mr.  Filicchi,  as  stated  above, 
and  the  remote  expectation  she  had  of  removing  herself, 
with  her  daughters,  to  Canada.  .Mr.  Dubourg,  who  was  a 
man  of  enlarged  views  and  remarkable  enterprise,  no  sooner 
became  acquainted  with  the  design  which  she  euteruuueu  of 
retiring  at  some  future  period  into  a  religious  community, 
for  the  welfare  of  herself  and  her  children,  than  he  suggested 
the  practicability  of  the  scheme  within  the  limits  of  the 
United  States.  Mrs.  Seton  immediately  wrote  to  Bishop 
Carroll,  informing  him  of  what  had  passed  between  her  am] 


200  THE    LIFE    Of 

Mr.  Bubouig,  and  requesting  his  advice  in  the  matter  "1 
could  not  venture,"  she  says,  "to  take  a  further  step  in  so 
interesting  a  situation  without  your  concurrence  and  direc- 
tion, which  also,  I  am  assured,  will  the  more  readily  obtain 
for  me  the  blessing  of  him  whose  will  alone  it  is  my  earnest 
desire  to  accomplish."  After  mentioning  the  particulai 
trials  she  had  to  contend  with  in  New  York,  and  assuring 
Dr.  Carroll  that  she  had  yielded  in  condescension  to  her  op 
ponents  every  point  possible  consistently  with  her  peace  foi 
the  hour  of  death,  she  continues : — "  And  for  that  hour,  my 
dear  sir,  I  now  beg  you  to  consider,  while  you  direct  me  how 
to  act  for  my  dear  little  children,  who  in  that  hour,  if  they 
remain  in  their  present  situation,  would  be  snatched  from 
our  dear  faith  as  from  an  accumulation  of  error  as  well  as 
misfortune  to  them.  For  myself,  certainly  the  only  fear  I 
can  have  is  that  there  is  too  much  of  self-seeking  in  plead- 
ing for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object,  which,  however, 
I  joyfully  yield  to  the  will  of  the  Almighty,  confident  that, 
as  he  has  disposed  my  heart  to  wish  above  all  things  to  please 
him,  it  will  not  be  disappointed  in  the  desire,  whatever  may 
be  his  appointed  means.  The  embracing  a  religious  life  has 
been,  from  the  time  I  was  in  Leghorn,  so  much  my  hope  and 
consolation,  that  I  would  at  any  moment  have  embraced  all 
the  difficulties  of  again  crossing  the  ocean  to  attain  it,  little 
imagining  it  could  be  accomplished  here.  But  now  my  chil- 
dren are  so  circumstanced  that  I  could  not  die  in  peace  (and 
you  know,  dear  sir,  we  must  make  every  preparation)  except 
I  felt  the  full  conviction  I  had  done  all  in  my  power  to 
shield  them  from  it :  in  that  case  it  would  be  easy  to  commit 
them  to  God." 

While  Mrs.  Seton  was  consulting  Bishop  Carroll  in  re- 
gard to  the  important  arrangement  suggested  by  Mr.  Du- 
bourg,  this  gentleman  was  conferring  with  the  Rev.  Messrs 
Matignon  and  Cheverus,  of  Boston,  upon  the  same  subject 


MRS.  E.   A.   8ETON.  201 

After  having  weighed  the  matter  attentively,  they  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  her  Canada  scheme  should  be  abandoned, 
and  that  it  would  be  preferable  to  exert  her  talents  in  the 
way  proposed  by  Mr.  Dubourg.  Mr.  Cheverus  wrote  to  her, 
"  hoping  that  this  project  would  do  better  for  her  family,  and 
being  sure  it  would  be  very  conducive  to  the  progress  of  re- 
ligion in  this  country."  It  was  the  opinion,  however,  of 
these  distinguished  clergymen  that  the  execution  of  the  de- 
sign should  not  be  precipitate  j  and  they  therefore  advised 
her,  through  Mr.  Dubourg,  "  to  wait  the  manifestation  of  the 
Divine  will — the  will  of  a  Father  most  tender,  who  will  not 
let  go  the  child  afraid  to  step  alone.".  The  wise  forethought 
of  Dr.  Matignon  led  him  to  believe  that  Mrs.  Seton  wa? 
called,  in  the  designs  of  God's  providence,  to  be  the  instru- 
ment of  some  special  mercies  that  he  wished  to  dispense  to 
the  Church  in  this  country.  "  I  have  only  to  pray  God,"  he 
wrote  to  her,  "to  bless  your  views  and  his,  and  to  give  you 
the  grace  to  fulfil  them  for  his  greater  glory.  You  are  des- 
tined, I  think,  for  some  great  good  in  the  United  States,  and 
here  you  should  remain  in  preference  to  any  other  location 
For  the  rest,  God  has  his  moments,  which  we  must  not  seek 
to  anticipate,  and  a  prudent  delay  only  brings  to  maturity 
the  good  desires  which  he  awakens  within  us.".  Bishop  Car- 
roll, in  answer  to  Mrs.  Seton's  inquiries,  informed  her  that, 
although  he  was  entirely  ignorant  of  all  particulars,  yet,  to 
approve  the  plan  of  Mr.  Dubourg,  it  was  enough  for  him  to 
know  that  it  had  the  concurrence  of  Dr.  Matignon  and  Mr. 
Cheverus. 

•  Mr.  Dubourg,  whose  penetrating  mind  and  enterprising 
spirit  were  so  instrumental  in  shaping  the  destiny  of  Mrs. 
Seton,  was  born  in  1766,  at  Cape  Frangais,  in  the  island  of 
St.  Domingo.  Having  been  sent  to  France  for  his  educa- 
tion, he  there  embraced  the  ecclesiastical  state,  and  went 
through  his  course  of  study  in  a  seminary  of  St.  Sulpitiua. 


202  THE    LIFE    Of 

Soon  after  his  elevation  to  the  priesthood,  he  was  compelled 
to  fly  from  that  country  by  the  violent  persecution  which 
was  then  raging  against  religion  and  its  ministers,  and  he 
went  to  Spain,  where  he  lived  for  two  years.  He  then  em 
barked  for  the  United  States,  where  not  long  after  his  ar 
rival  he  became  a  member  of  the  Society  of  St.  Sulpitius, 
at  Baltimore. (IO)  §  The  year  after,  (1796,)  he  was  appointed 
by  Bishop  Carroll  president  of  the  college  at  Georgetown, 
which,  under  his  direction  and  with  the  aid  of  able  profes- 
sors, acquired  a  high  reputation  before  the  public.  The  Sul- 
pitians  having  opened  a  collegiate  establishment  in  Havana, 
Mr.  Dubourg  was  sent  to  the  aid  of  his  brethren  in  that 
city  in  1798;  but  circumstances  having  combined  to  frus- 
trate their  efforts,  he  returned  the  following  year  to  Balti- 
more, where  in  conduction  with  his  confreres  he  commenced 
an  institution  for  the  education  of  youth,  and  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  St.  Mary's  College.  •  The  design  was  encouraged 
by  his  superiors,  particularly  as  it  was  hoped  that  the  esta- 
blishment would  furnish  candidates  for  the  ecclesiastical  state. 
Mr.  Dubourg  had  brought  with  him  from  Cuba  several  young 
men,  who  with  others  from  the  same  country  were  the  first 
pupils  of  St.  Mary's.  American  youths  were  not  admitted 
in  the  beginning,  as  the  rising  institution  at  Georgetown 
was  considered  amply  sufficient  for  the  wants  of  the  students 
furnished  by  the  United  States.  Full  of  energy,  Mr.  Du- 
bourg erected  on  the  seminary  grounds  spacious  buildings, 
which  were  specially  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  a  collegiate 
establishment,  and  the  increasing  patronage  of  the  public 
eoon  gave  evidence  that  his  views  and  efforts  were  duly  ap 
preciated  and  would  lead  to  permanent  usefulness. 

A  mind  like  his — of  quick  perception  and  comprehensive 
grasp,  fertile  in  expedients  and  generally  happy  in  the 
selection  of  such  as  were  most  effective — couid  not  fail  to 
discover  in  Mrs.  Seton  a  woman  of  superior  worth,  und  one 


MRS.   E.    A     8ETON.  203 

whose  eminent  qualities  might  be  employed  with  the  most 
signal  advantage  to  religion  and  society.  On  her  part,  Mrs. 
Seton  was  much  amazed  at  the  idea  of  her  being  considered 
a  fit  instrument  for  promoting  the  interest  of  the  Church ; 
because  she  was  far  from  forming  a  just  estimate  of  her 
own  abilities.  She  knew,  however,  that  the  ways  of  God 
are  very  different  from  those  of  men,  and  she  bowed  submis- 
sively to  his  designs  in  relation  to  her,  hoping  by  the  path 
of  obedience  to  ascertain  and  fulfil  them.  »In  a  letter  to  Mr 
Filicchi,  after  stating  the  views  of  Messrs.  Matignon  and 
Cheverus  that  she  was  destined  to  forward  the  progress  of 
the  true  faith,  she  adds  : — "  The  very  idea  is  enough  to  turn 
a  stronger  brain ;  but  I  know  very  well  HE  sees  differently 
from  man,  and,  as  obedience  is  his  favorite  service  and  can- 
not lead  me  wrong,  according  to  the  old  rule  I  look  neither 
behind  nor  before,  but  straight  upward,  without  thinking  of 
human  calculations."  In  this  way  she  resigned  herself  en- 
tirely into  the  hands  of  G-od,  awaiting  the  further  orders  of 
his  providence,  to  be  disposed  of  as  he  might  indicate  through 
the  voice  of  her  superiors.  « 

Urged  by  the  counsels  of  individuals  so  fully  entitled  to 
her  confidence  and  respect,  Mrs.  Seton  did  not  hesitate  to 
relinquish  the  idea  of  removing  to  Canada.  The  opinion  of 
Mr.  Philip  Filicchi,  whom  she  had  also  consulted,  further  en- 
couraged her  in  the  renunciation  of  that  project  and  consoled 
her  for  the  failure  of  her  hopes.  About  the  beginning  of 
November,  1807,  in  replying  to  a  letter  which  she  had  re- 
ceived from  him,  she  says : — "  Your  letter  is  indeed  a  cordial 
one  I  often  read  it  to  encourage  and  strengthen  me  in  the 
disappointment  of  not  being  permitted  to  fulfil  the  so  long 
anticipated  removal  of  my  family  to  Canada;  which  plan, 
originating  in  the  benevolence  and  precautions  of  your  An- 
tonio for  our  welfare,  had  been  long  contemplated  in  my 
female  fancy  (which  you  know  must  be  active)  as  one  of  the 


204  THE    LIFE    OF 

sweet  dispositions  of  Providence  among  the  many  it  hai 
effected  for  us  through  him.  »  But  your  opinion,  added  tc 
the  united  sentiments  of  those  persons  whose  will  i's  my  law, 
has  banished  even  the  thoughts  of  it,  (voluntarily  indulged,) 
though  naturally  they  present  themselves  on  every  occasion 
of  difficulty  so  frequent  in  the  particular  situation  in  which 
we  are  placed.  Quite  sure  I  am,  many  would  await  us  there; 
but  they  could  scarcely  be  combined  of  materials  so  repulsive 
to  my  nature." 

While  in  this  state  of  suspense,  looking  forward  to  the 
opportunities  that  God  would  send  her  for  accomplishing  the 
plan  of  Mr.  Dubourg,  Mrs.  Seton's  position  in  New  York 
became  more  difficult  and  embarrassing.  In  the  fall  of 
1807,  the  board  of  the  students  attending  Mr.  Harris's 
school,  which  we  have  mentioned  before,  fell  short  of  tho 
maintenance  of  her  family:  the  boys  who  lodged  in  her 
establishment  were  very  unfit  companions  for  her  children; 
and  their  parents,  discovering  her  inability  to  control  them, 
thought  that  the  advantages  of  their  situation  were  much 
lessened  by  this  circumstance,  and  complained  personally  on 
the  subject,  so  that  her  remaining  in  it  was  a  matter  of  favor 
Add  to  this  that  the  academy  of  Mr.  Harris  was  to  continue 
for  three  years  longer,  Mrs.  Seton's  expenses  in  fuel  and 
house-rent  were  enormous,  her  children  were  prevented  six 
months  in  the  year  from  attending  the  services  of  the  Church, 
and  she  herself  could  assist  at  them  only  with  inconvenience, 
though  to  be  present  at  the  offices  of  religion  was  her  only 
comfort.  In  this  state  of  things,  Mrs.  Seton,  urged  on  the 
one  hand  by  the  shortcomings  of  her  revenue  and  on  the 
other  by  the  spiritual  dangers  to  which  her  children  were 
exposed,  after  having  conferred  with  her  pious  and  enlight- 
ened friend,  Mrs.  Barry,  and  received  the  express  direction 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sibourd,  wrote  to  Bishop  Carroll  to  solicit 
bis  advice  in  so  important  an  emergency  For  herself,  aa 


MBS     £.   A.    SETON.  205 

she  said,  she  was  well  assured  that  difficulties  and  crosses 
were  the  best  companions  of  a  Christian,  and  were  peculiarly 
necessary  to  keep  her  views  in  the  right  direction;  but  she 
was  compelled  to  claim  his  indulgence  in  a  consideration  so 
intimately  connected  with  the  happiness  of  her  dear  ones. 
She  tLerefore  unfolded  to  him  all  the  circumstances  of  her 
case  that  she  might  be  guided  entirely  by  his  decision 
But  the  humble  and  filial  manner  in  which  she  approaches 
him  is  worthy  of  particular  notice.  After  stating  the  rea- 
sons which  induce  her  to  encroach  upon  his  valuable  time, 
she  says : — "  Now  then,  dear  sir,  I  imagine  you  seated  in 
your  elbow-chair,  and  my  poor  self  at  your  feet;  and  in  the 
first  place  tell  you,  from  the  time  Filicchi  mentioned  his 
resolution  that  my  boys  should  go  to  Montreal,  I  have  con- 
sidered it  as  a  shelter  offered  us  by  Providence  for  the  safety 
of  my  little  girls,  in  respect  to  their  faith,  and  security  when 
it  shall  please  God  to  remove  me  from  them.  You  know 
their  situation  and  dangers  from  their  connections;  there- 
fore it  is  useless  to  mention  it,  or  my  own  view  of  advancing 
my  own  salvation.  The  means  of  executing  this  plan 
amount  to  six  hundred  dollars  per  annum,  as  certain,  and 
liberty  to  claim  twice  that  sum  from  the  subscription  Filicchi 
obtained  for  us;  also  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  M.,  five  hundred 
dollars  present.  I  have  certainly  the  hope  that  my  talents, 
such  as  they  are,  might  be  made  useful  in  the  instruction 
of  children  and  assist  our  maintenance."  She  then  details 
the  difficulties  of  her  position  as  mentioned  above,  and  pro- 
ceeds with  the  following  statement: — "The  sacrifices  I 
should  make  in  leaving  this  place  are  centred  in  the  dear 
converted  sister,  who  now  lives  with  her  brother,  (the  other 
dear  girls  are  not  permitted  to  see  me,)  and  the  dear  Barrys, 
who  are  individually  dearer  to  me  than  any  friend  I  have. 
For  every  other  connection,  they  have  so  much  distrust  and 

suspicion  of  my  character,  considering,  and  justly,  that 
18 


206  THE    LIFE    Off 

every  action  is  involved  in  my  religious  principles,  that  thej 
certainly  would  rather  consider  it  as  a  relief,  if  they  knew  I 
was  in  a  situation  conformable  to  my  own  peace.  If  you 
think  it  best  to  waive  all  delicacy  with  respect  to  these 
gentlemen  who  employ  me,  and  not  leave  the  place  without 
their  dismission,  making  the  best  of  circumstances  until 
some  providential  change  takes  place,  I  shall  feel  every 
thing  reconciled  by  your  decision,  and  in  every  event  be 
convinced  it  is  the  will  of  God.  If  you  think  the  boys  may 
properly  be  removed  to  Montreal,  and  that  I  may  remove 
with  them,  it  will  be  my  greatest  security  to  be  authorized 
by  your  judgment  and  permission."  Mrs.  Seton  referred 
again  to  the  plan  of  settling  in  Canada,  as  it  was  probably 
the  only  one  that  appeared  to  her  practicable  in  the  im- 
mediate urgency  of  her  case.  The  answer  which  Bishop 
Carroll  returned  at  this  important  juncture  was  character- 
ized by  his  usual  wisdom  and  prudence.  He  informed 
Mrs.  Seton  that  her  two  sons  at  Georgetown  College  were 
doing  well ;  but  that  if  six  hundred  dollars  a  year  would  be 
sufficient  at  Montreal  for  their  education  and  maintenance, 
and  that  of  her  amiable  daughters,  it  was  a  great  imduce- 
ment  for  her  to  remove  thither,  where  her  talents  would  be 
highly  useful,  if  the  good  ladies  of  the  convent  would  em- 
ploy them.  He  stated,  however,  an  objection  to  this  plan, 
which,  he  thought,  deserved  attentive  consideration.  "If 
your  girls,"  he  asked,  "  become  dissatisfied  and  unhappy  at 
Montreal,  or  their  health  injured  by  the  climate,  so  that  you 
should  be  obliged  to  leave  it,  (for  you  could  not  consent  to 
let  them  depart  without  you,)  are  you  confident  of  being 
enabled  to  re-establish  yourself  at  New  York?"  This  was 
a  question  which  required  to  be  satisfactorily  answered  to 
her  own  mind.  As  to  the  contract  she  had  entered  into 
with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Harris,  principal  of  the  school,  Bishop 
Carroll  remarked : — "  Surely,  my  dear  madam,  if  you  can- 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  207 

not  fulfil  your  engagements  without  exposing  your  dear 
daughters  to  improper  company  and  occasions  dangerous  to 
the  purity  of  their  minds,  you  ought  to  take  effectual  mea- 
sures to  persuade  the  gentleman  to  consent  to  release  you 
from  your  engagements :  after  which,  motives  of  economical 
prudence  seem  to  require  of  you  to  make  a  trial  of  Montreal, 
after  being  well  assured  that  you  have  not  been  misinformed 
as  to  the  expense;  for  indeed  it  is  incredible  to  me  that  it 
can  be  so  moderate." 

These  directions  from  Bishop  Carroll  were  received  by 
Mrs  Seton  about  the  beginning  of  December,  1807.  In  the 
following  spring  the  difficulties  of  her  pensionate  already 
mentioned  had  become  still  more  embarrassing,  and,  having 
abandoned  the  idea  of  removing  to  Canada,  she  was  patiently 
awaiting  the  further  manifestation  of  Divine  Providence  in 
her  regard,  sure  that  it  would  point  out  to  her  some  other 
way  when  the  proper  time  arrived.  Such  was  the  situation 
of  her  affairs  when  she  incidentally  met  with  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Dubourg  at  the  residence  of  a  gentleman  who  was  their 
common  friend.  Mr.  Dubourg  having,  in  the  course  of  con- 
versation, mentioned  some  particulars  respecting  the  pro- 
perty of  the  college  over  which  he  presided,  and  the  vacant 
lots  of  ground  belonging  to  it,  Mrs.  Seton  remarked,  in  a 
jesting  way,  "I  will  come  and  beg."  These  careless  words 
afterward  induced  an  explanation  of  her  exact  position  in 
New  York;  "and,"  observes  Mrs.  Seton,  "  Mr.  Dubourg,  in- 
teresting himself  for  us  as  he  does  for  even  the  least  of  God's 
creatures  to  whom  he  may  be  useful,  said  decidedly,  '  Come 
to  us,  Mrs  Seton,  we  will  assist  you  in  forming  a  plan  of  life 
which,  while  it  will  forward  your  views  of  contributing  to 
the  support  of  your  children,  will  also  shelter  them  from  the 
dangers  to  which  they  are  exposed  among  their  Protestant 
connections,  and  also  afford  you  much  more  consolation  in 
the  exercise  of  your  faith  than  you  have  yet  enjoyed.  W« 


208  THE    LIFE    07 

also  wish  to  form  a  small  school  for  the  promotion  of  i-eligioua 
instruction  for  such  children  whose  parents  are  interested  in 
that  point.'  You  may  be  sure,  I  obj  ected  only  want  of  talents ; 
to  which  he  replied,  '  We  want  example  more  than  talents.' " 
It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  delighted  Mrs.  Seton  must  have 
been  by  this  generous  invitation  from  Mr.  Dubourg,  par- 
ticularly when  he  assured  her  that  her  two  sons  would  b« 
admitted  into  St.  Mary's  College  without  any  expense.  Dr. 
Matignon  and  Mr.  Cheverus  were  immediately  consulted  in 
relation  to  the  project,  and  they  expressed  at  once  their 
decided  approbation  of  it.  The  latter,  in  the  name  of  both, 
addressed  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Seton  without  delay,  in  which  he 
observed : — "  Such  an  establishment  would  be  a  public  benefit 
for  religion,  and,  we  hope,  a  real  advantage  to  yourself  and 
amiable  family.  We  infinitely  prefer  it  to  your  project  of 
retreat  in  Montreal."  At  the  same  time,  Mrs.  Seton  con- 
ferred with  some  of  her  friends  in  New  York,  who  were  also 
of  opinion  that  her  removal  to  Baltimore  was  an  excellent 
scheme;  and  she  therefore  determined  to  leave  her  native 
city,  and  to  seek  elsewhere  for  herself  and  her  family  that 
temporal  maintenance  and  religious  security  which  were 
not  attainable  in  the  home  of  her  childhood.  In  the  ar- 
rangement of  the  plan,  which  now  wholly  engrossed  the 
mind  of  Mr.  Dubourg,  he  suggested  the  expediency  of  rent- 
ing a  two-story  brick  house  which  had  been  recently  buih 
aear  St.  Mary's  Seminary,  and  was  well  suited  to  the  object 
contemplated.  He  thought  that  this  would  be  the  most 
prudent  step  in  the  beginning,  and  that  the  experience  of  the 
first  year  would  enable  her  and  her  friends  to  judge  more 
correctly  of  the  proper  measures  to  be  taken  for  the  esta- 
blishment of  her  institution  on  a  more  extensive  footing. 
But  the  following  letter  which  he  wrote  to  her  on  the  27th 
of  May,  1808,  will  show  more  in  detail  the  character  of  the 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  209 

institution  which  he  proposed,  and  the  resources  which  she 
had  to  depend  on. 

"From  your  esteemed  favor  received  yesterday,  I  con- 
clude there  is  no  further  obstacle  in  the  way  than  the  ulti- 
mate decision  of  your  New  York  friends  as  respects  the 
time  of  your  removal.  I  cannot  but  approve  the  delicacy 
and  moderation  with  which  you  wish  the  whole  affair  to  be 
conducted  with  every  person  connected  with  you.  I  only 
gay,  with  Mr.  Wilkes,  'the  sooner  will  be  the  better.'  But, 
to  be  perfectly  explicit,  and  enable  you  to  be  so  with  your 
friends,  I  think  I  ought  to  enter  into  a  minute  detail  of  the 
parts  of  the  plan  which  I  conceive  to  be  the  most  prudent  to 
pursue  in  the  beginning  and  in  the  sequel.  I  have  already 
stated  that  I  thought  it  premature  to  purchase  a  house.  I 
would  rent  one  for  the  first  year.  This  space  of  time  would 
be  sufficient  to  obtain  an  answer  from  Italy,*  and  otherwise 
to  make  a  trial  of  our  strength  and  of  our  prospects.  The 
question  about  the  house  would  only  be  whether  we  should 
prefer  one  which  is  contiguous  to  our  chapel,  but  hardly 
large  enough  to  accommodate  eight  boarders  and  your  own 
family,  to  another  about  two  hundred  yards  distant,  in  which 
you  could  easily  lodge  twenty,  but  whose  rent  would  be  $400, 
instead  of  $250,  which  the  former  would  be.  I  am  inclined 
to  think  the  smaller  house  would  be  sufficient  for  one  year, 
because  I  do  not  feel  extremely  anxious  to  see  the  number 
of  your  pupils  increased  with  too  great  rapidity.  The  fewer 
you  will  have  in  the  beginning,  the  lighter  your  task,  and 
the  easier  it  will  be  to  establish  that  spirit  of  regularity  and 
piety  which  must  be  the  main-spring  of  your  machine. 
There  are  in  the  country  enough,  and  perhaps  too  many, 
mixed  schools,  in  which  ornamental  accomplishments  are  the 


*  That  is,  from  the  Messrs.  Filicchi,  whose  co-operation  Mrs.  Seton 
requested,  encouraged  by  their  generous  friendship. 
18*  0 


210  THE    LIFE    Of 

only  objects  of  education :  we  have  none,  that  I  know,  whera 
their  acquisition  is  connected  with  and  made  subservient  to 
pious  instruction ;  and  such  a  one  you  certainly  wish  yours 
to  be.  To  effect  it,  my  opinion  is  that  none  but  Catholic 
girls,  or  such  as  would  be  permitted  by  their  parents  to  re- 
ceive a  Catholic  education,  should  obtain  admittance  in  it, 
True  it  is  that,  the  number  of  such  being  small,  it  would  per- 
haps take  several  years  before  the  income  of  the  pensions 
would  be  equal  to  the  expense.  To  supply  the  deficiency 
we  must  depend  on  Providence,  which  has  already  given  you 
sufficient  encouragement,  in  the  generous  offers  of  your  Leg- 
horn friend,  to  save  us  the  imputation  of  rashness.  If  one 
yeai's  experience  persuades  us  that  the  establishment  is 
likely  to  succeed  in  promoting  the  grand  object  of  a  Catholic 
and  virtuous  education,  and  if  it  pleases  Almighty  God  to 
give  you,  your  good  Cecilia,  and  your  amiable  daughter,  a 
relish  for  your  functions  and  a  resolution  to  devote  your- 
selves to  it,  so  as  to  secure  permanency  to  the  institution, 
we  will  then  consult  HIM  about  the  means  of  perpetuating 
it,  by  the  association  of  some  other  pious  ladies  who  may  b« 
animated  with  the  same  spirit,  and  submit  all  our  ideas  to 
your  worthy  friends  and  protectors.  If  they  approve  of 
them,  a  lot  on  our  ground  will  not  be  wanting,  on  which  we 
may,  little  by  little,  erect  the  buildings  which  the  gradual  in- 
crease of  the  institution  may  render  necessary." 

Under  the  guidance  of  this  zealous  and  enlightened  eccle- 
siastic, Mrs  Seton  hastened  to  prepare  herself  to  set  out  for 
the  field  of  her  future  exertions.  The  day  before  she  left 
New  York,  he  wrote  to  her,  animating  her  to  enter  with  zeal 
and  confidence  upon  the  course  which  she  had  determined 
upon:  "I  remain,"  says  he,  "more  and  more  satisfied  that, 
even  were  you  to  fail  in  the  attempt  you  are  going  to  make, 
it  is  the  will  of  God  you  should  make  it,  so  great  is  the  num- 
ber of  circumstances  concurring  in  its  favor  Among  otben 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON  211 

I  cannot  help  being  struck  at  the  unanimity  of  all  your 
friends,  both  worldly  and  spiritual,  in  recommending  and 
encouraging  it,  and  particularly  at  the  eagerness  with  which 
every  member  of  our  community  has  received  the  overtures 
I  have  made  them  on  the  subject.  There  is  not  one  of  my 
respected  brethren*  but  anticipates  the  greatest  advantages 
from  the  meditated  institution,  and  is  ready  to  promote  it  to 
the  full  extent  of  his  powers.  Let  us  then  now  place  our 
whole  confidence  in  him  who  chooses  thus  to  make  us  know 
his  holy  will,  and  be  ready  to  meet  with  joy  every  contradic- 
tion or  ill  success  which  might  attend  our  compliance."  After 
expressing  his  approbation  of  Miss  Cecilia  Seton's  accom- 
panying her  sister,  he  continues : — "  My  sister  is  eager  to 
lock  you  in  her  arms,  and  to  form  with  you  a  connection 
which  even  death  will  never  dissolve.  My  little  niece  has 
written  to  her  mamma  in  the  effusion  of  her  joy  at  the  ap- 
proach of  a  new  mamma  and  a  new  family  of  sisters.  She 
shares  (and  it  is  not  saying  little)  in  all  the  sentiments  of 
veneration  and  affectionate  regard  for  you  which  glow  in  the 
breast  of  your  ever  devoted  friend." 

•  That  U,  of  St.  Mary's  Seminary  and  College  at  Baltimor*. 


212  THE    LIFE    Of 


BOOK  V 

Mr«.  Seton  embarks  for  Baltimore — Her  sentiments  daring  the  royagt 
»nd  on  her  arrival — Her  sons  removed  to  St  Mary's  college — Atten- 
tions received  by  her — Happiness  in  her  new  situation — Letter  froo 
Mr.  Filicchi — She  writes  to  him — His  generosity — Commencement  of 
an  academy — Exercises  of  the  school — Rev.  Peter  Babade— First  com- 
munion— Miss  Harriet  Seton — Mrs.  Seton's  attachment  to  her  and  her 
sisters — Piety  of  Miss  Cecilia  Seton — Correspondence  between  her  and 
Mrs.  Seton — Mrs.  Seton's  first  associate— Remarkable  coincidence — 
Project  of  a  work  of  charity — Mr.  Samuel  Cooper — Purchase  of  land 
near  Emmettsburg — Rev.  John  Dubois — Beginnings  of  Mt.  St.  Mary's 
College — Prediction  of  Rev.  Mr.  Cheverus — Mrs.  Seton  is  joined  by 
others — Her  humility — Costume  and  exercises  of  the  sisters — Mrs. 
Bcton  binds  herself  by  TOW — Name  of  the  society — Further  accession! 
— Miss  Cecilia  Seton's  sickness  and  voyage  to  Baltimore — Mother  Seton 
accompanies  her  to  Emmettsburg — Her  sister  Harriet's  conversion. 

HAVING  completed  her  arrangements  for  leaving  New 
York,  Mrs.  Seton,  with  her  three  daughters,  embarked  for 
Baltimore  in  a  packet  on  the  9th  of  June,  1808.  What 
were  the  saddening  reflections  which  memory  recalled,  and 
the  overpowering  emotions  of  her  heart,  in  launching  again 
upon  the  ocean,  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe.  She  could 
not  see  the  shores  of  her  native  city  receding  from  her  view 
without  drawing  the  contrast  between  the  circumstances  un- 
der which  she  had  left  it  at  a  former  period  and  her  present 
situation.  Then  she  was  beloved  and  cherished  by  a  nume- 
rous family,  whose  tender  regards  and  warmest  sympathies 
accompanied  her  to  a  distant  clime;  now  she  was  an 
outcast,  at  it  were,  from  that  society  in  whose  affections  she 
had  lived  for  so  many  years.  She  was  an  exile  from  the 
place  of  her  birth;  and  her  departure,  instead  of  being  ade- 
quately soothed  by  the  kind  attentions  of  her  natural  friends, 


MRS.    £.    A.    8 ETON.  213 

was  rather  a  subject  of  congratulation  for  the  unrelenting 
bigotry  of  many  among  them.  But  Mrs.  Seton's  faith  waa 
equal  to  the  fiery  ordeal  through  which  she  had  to  pass.  On 
board  of  the  vessel  she  was  kindly  treated  by  all  her  fellow- 
travellers,  which  prompted  her  to  pour  forth  her  heart  in 
gratitude  to  God,  and  to  make  a  frequent  offering  of  herself 
that  he  might  dispose  of  her  according  to  the  designs  of  his 
providence.  Much  of  her  time  during  the  passage  was  spent 
in  prayer  and  acts  of  resignation  to  the  divine  will;  and  as 
she  drew  near  the  end  of  her  voyage,  and  thought  of  the 
new  career  she  was  about  to  enter  upon,  in  the  midst  of 
strangers,  she  threw  herself  with  an  entire  confidence  into 
•  the  arms  of  Providence,  burying  all  care  and  solicitude  in 
the  reflection  that  she  was  pursuing  the  course  marked  out 
to  her  by  the  will  of  God.  "  To-morrow  do  I  go  among 
strangers?  No.  Has  an  anxious  thought  or  fear  passed 
my  mind  ?  No.  Can  I  be  disappointed  ?  No.  One  sweet 
sacrifice  will  reunite  my  soul  with  all  who  offer  it.  Doubt 
and  fear  will  fly  from  the  breast  inhabited  by  HIM.  There 
can  be  no  disappointment  where  the  soul's  only  desiie  and 
expectation  is  to  meet  his  adored  will  and  fulfil  it."  Such 
were  the  fervent  sentiments  that  accompanied  Mrs.  Seton  to 
her  new  sphere  of  labor,  and  which  were  not  a  little  en- 
hanced by  the  religious  ceremonial  at  which  she  assisted  im- 
mediately on  her  arrival  in  Baltimore.  Having  reached  the 
wharf  late  at  night  on  "Wednesday,  June  15,  she  did  not 
leave  the  vessel  until  the  following  morning,  when  a  carriage 
conveyed  her  and  her  children  to  St.  Mary's  chapel,  for  the 
purpose  of  assisting  at  the  holy  sacrifice  of  mass,  for  it  was 
the  feast  of  Corpus  Christi,  and  the  day  on  which  the  beauti- 
ful church  attached  to  St  Mary's  seminary  was  dedicated  to 
the  service  of  God.  The  splendor  and  solemnity  of  the  ce- 
remony awakened  the  most  lively  impressions  in  Mrs.  Seton, 
whose  feelings  were  almost  overpowered  by  the  scene/11 


214  THE    LIFE    OF 

After  the  service  she  was  introduced  to  a  new  circle  at 
friends,  from  whom  she  met  that  warm  and  cordial  reception 
which  made  her  feel  perfectly  at  home. 

A  few  days  after  her  arrival  in  Baltimore,  she  went  to 
Georgetown  for  the  purpose  of  removing  her  two  sons  from 
the  college  at  that  place  to  the  institution  under  the  charge 
of  Rev.  Mr.  Dubourg.  Here  they  were  received  free  of  ex- 
pense, and  they  enjoyed  at  the  same  time  the  advantage  of 
that  maternal  vigilance  which,  when  exercised  with  wisdom, 
is  a  considerable  help  in  the  training  of  the  youthful  heart 
Mrs.  Seton  was  a  woman  of  that  sterling  sense  which  pre- 
vented the  proximity  of  her  boys  to  her  own  residence  from 
becoming  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  their  collegiate  duties. 
Her  affection  for  them  could  not  be  surpassed ;  but  it  was 
tempered  and  governed,  in  its  outward  manifestations,  by  that 
wise  discrimination  which  knows  the  injurious  effect  which 
parental  indulgence  too  often  produces,  in  counteracting  the 
salutary  influence  of  academical  discipline  upon  the  disposi- 
tion and  habits  of  young  persons. 

Mrs.  Seton's  conversion  had  excited  a  good  deal  of  atten 
tion ;  but  her  removal  to  Baltimore,  with  a  view  to  conduct 
a  female  academy,  added  to  the  interest  with  which  she  was 
looked  upon  by  a  large  class  of  the  community.  Many  per- 
sons of  the  first  respectability  called  to  see  her,  some  per- 
haps through  motives  of  curiosity,  others  from  higher  con- 
siderations, to  offer  the  tribute  of  respect  and  to  welcome 
her  in  their  midst.  Among  those  who  waited  on  her, 
Colonel  John  Eager  Howard,  former  governor  of  Maryland, 
and  one  of  the  wealthiest  citizens  of  Baltimore,*  deserves 
honorable  mention.  Mr.  Howard  paid  her  a  visit,  and,  en- 
tertaining a  particular  regard  for  her  and  her  family,  with 


•  Known  in  the  history  of  the  American  Revolution  as  the  "  Hero  of 
Ctowpuns." 


MRS.   E.   A.   8ETON.  215 

whom  he  was  acquainted,  he  offered  her  a  home  in  his  ele- 
gant mansion  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  promifing  also  to 
»  educate  her  sons  and  daughters  as  his  own.  A  proposal 
like  this  she  could  not  but  consider  as  a  noble  act  of  gene- 
rosity on  the  part  of  Mr.  Howard,  and  she  duly  testified  her 
grateful  sense  of  the  kindness ;  but  in  thanking  him  she 
politely  declined  accepting  it,  observing  that  she  had  not  left 
the  world  for  the  purpose  of  entering  it  again.  The  visits 
which  were  paid  to  Mrs.  Seton  she  would  willingly  have  dis- 
pensed with  had  she  consulted  only  her  love  of  recollection 
and  retirement ;  but  she  followed  in  this  the  advice  of  her 
directors,  who  thought  it  better  that  she  should  not  refuse 
herself  to  those  who  called  on  her.  But  she  found  chiefly 
among  the  reverend  clergy  warm  and  efficient  friends,  who 
looked  upon  her  as  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God  for  ad- 
vancing in  a  special  manner  the  interests  of  his  holy  Church. 
The  venerable  Bishop  Carroll  was  delighted  to  find  himself 
in  the  midst  of  her  little  family  circle,  and  they  were  equally 
orerjoyed  by  the  paternal  kindness  which  that  excellent  pre- 
late always  manifested  toward  them.  « 

Although  Mrs.  Seton  was  now  separated  from  her  rela- 
tives and  surrounded  by  persons  whose  acquaintance  she 
had  but  recently  formed,  her  situation  was  so  preferable  in 
every  respect  that  she  could  scarcely  believe  her  own  happi- 
ness. A  comfortable  dwelling  and  well  adapted  to  her  pur- 
pose, numerous  and  influential  friends,  who  took  the  liveliest 
interest  in  her  welfare,  the  brightest  prospects  of  success, 
every  heart  caressing  her,  "  the  look  of  peace  and  love  on 
every  countenance,"  and,  above  all,  her  close  proximity  to  St. 
Mary's  chapel,  which  afforded  every  facility  for  devotional 
exercises, — all  this,  so  different  from  what  she  had  experienced 
in  New  York,  caused  her  heart  to  overflow  with  joy  and 
thankfulness.  Writing  to  a  friend  a  short  time  after  hei 
change  of  residence,  she  says : — "  I  find  the  difference  of  situa- 


216  THE    LIFE    OS1 

tion  so  great  that  I  can  scarcely  believe  it  is  the  same  ex< 
istence.  All  those  little  dear  attentions  of  human  life  which 
I  was  entirely  weaned  from  are  now  my  daily  portion  from 
the  family  of  Mr.  Dubourg,  whose  sister  and  mother  are  un- 
wearied in  their  care  of  us.  The  little  necesssities  which  I 
cannot  afford  are  daily  sent  to  us,  as  a  part  of  their  family, 
and  in  every  respect  my  condition  is  like  a  new  being.  The 
fence  of  our  boundary  is  the  only  division  from  a  beautiful 
chapel,  which  is  open  from  daylight  till  nine  at  night.  Our 
house  is  very  neat,  placed  between  two  orchards,  and  two 
miles  from  the  city.02' My  prospects  of  an  establishment  I 
leave  to  God  Almighty." 

So  great  an  improvement  in  the  situation  of  Mrs.  Seton 
was  too  important  an  event  not  to  be  immediately  communi- 
cated to  her  friends  at  Leghorn.  No  person  on  earth  was 
more  ready  to  share  her  joy  or  to  sympathize  in  her  sorrows 
than  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi;  and,  while  she  was  penning  a 
letter  to  inform  him  of  the  change  that  had  taken  place,  the 
following  expression  of  his  devoted  friendship,  in  answer  to 
a  previous  communication  from  her,  was  on  its  way  to  her 
from  Italy.  "You  are  right,  you  are  but  just,  in  never  ad- 
mitting, (as  you  declare  in  your  last  letter,)  among  your 
fears  and  thoughts,  the  criminal  one  of  my  ever  having  less 
interest  or  affection  for  my  virtuous  American  sister,  my 
boasted  of  holy  converts.  In  spite  of  distance  and  of  the 
interrupted  correspondence  of  which  you  complain,  you 
never  before  were  so  present  in  my  mind,  never  so  purely 
deep  in  my  heart  as  now.  As  we  both  grow  old,  our  com- 
mon end,  heaven,  must  draw  us  daily  nearer  each  other,  till 
we  meet  again,  and  shall  shake  hands  together,  to  part  no 
more.  .  .  I  rejoice  in  the  good  behavior  and  improvement 
of  your  boys  and  girls.  A  Christian  education  will  be  the 
best  inheritance  you  can  leave  to  them.  .  .  .  My  friends,  the 
Hurrays,  have  repeated  orders  from  me  to  supply 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  217 

might  be  wanting  in  others.  You  must  caii  on  them  aa 
regularly  as  agreed  on  between  us,  and  as  often  as  you 
may  be  in  want.  If  you  attempt  to  disregard  your  brother's 
direction  in  this  respect,  I  will  not  write  you  any  more.  I 
will  try  not  to  think  of  you,  if  possible.  My  means  are  to- 
day double  of  what  they  were  at  the  date  of  my  subscription.* 
In  the  universal  stagnation  of  trade,  fortunate  speculations 
have  largely  made  up  for  the  loss  of  our  usual  consignments 
from  the  United  States.  A  special  Providence  is  visible  in 
every  step  of  ours.  If  you  are  heard  so  much  in  heaven  in 
my  behalf,  should  I  be  so  ungrateful  as  to  desert  you  on 
earth  ?  It  is  mortifying  indeed  to  receive,  but  mortification 
is  the  duty  of  a  Christian." 

To  a  friend  who  felt  so  lively  an  interest  in  her  happi- 
ness, the  intelligence  of  her  removal  to  Baltimore  could  not 
fail  to  be  most  welcome.  In  apprising  him  of  it  she  was 
aware  that  the  undertaking  she  was  about  to  commence 
might  ut  a  later  period  demand  considerable  expense,  and 
prudence  required  that  she  should  not  venture  too  far  with- 
out knowing  on  what  resources  she  might  confidently  de- 
pend. She,  therefore,  wrote  to  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi,  to 
consult  him  in  a  matter  which  was  in  some  degree  to  be  com- 
mitted to  the  generous  disposition  which  he  had  already 
manifested  toward  her;  and  it  will  be  seen  that  in  doing 
this  she  only  anticipated  the  magnanimous  proposals  of  the 
letter  which  we  have  just  cited  After  informing  him  of 
the  circumstances  which  more  immediately  led  to  her  re- 
moval from  New  York,  and  that  through  the  benevolence  of 
him  and  other  friends  she  had  been  enabled  to  bring  one 
thousand  dollars  with  her  to  Baltimore,  she  adds : — "  Here 
we  are  under  the  sheltering  wing  of  beings  who  live  only  to 
promote  the  glory  of  God  and  to  help  the  friendless  and 

*  That  is,  the  annual  contribution  of  $400  toward  her  support,  which 
becpn  in  1806. 
19 


218  THE    LIFE    OF 

distressed.  1  removed  my  boys  from  Georgetown  imine. 
diately,  and  Mr.  Dubourg  has  received  them  in  the  college, 
free  of  all  expense  to  me,  and  I  may  make  use  of  your  gene- 
rous allowance  to  assist  our  maintenance.  As  our  plan 
does  not  admit  of  taking  any  but  boarders,  and  those  Catho- 
lics, it  cannot  be  forwarded  with  that  speed  which  attends 
an  institution  founded  on  worldly  views.  Yet  there  is  every 
hope  that  it  will  gradually  succeed,  as  it  is  committed  solely 
to  the  providence  of  Almighty  God.  Should  I,  my  dear 
Antonio,  enter  into  a  detail  of  the  effects  of  the  unexpected, 
and  to  me  immense,  happiness  of  living  in  such  society  aa 
here  surrounds  us, — every  soul  breathing  only  divine  charity, 
the  sweet  company  and  friendship  of  one  of  the  most  amia- 
ble women  in  the  world,  the  sister  of  Rev.  Mr.  Dubourg, 
who  suffers  me  also  to  call  her  sister, — a  chapel  the  most  ele- 
gant in  America,  and  very  little  inferior  to  some  in  Florence, 
so  near  my  dwelling  that  I  can  hear  the  bell  at  the  altar, — 
oh,  Filicchi !  you  who  know  so  well  how  to  pity  your  sister 
will  gladly  receive  the  account  of  this  happy  reverse.  The 
gentlemen  of  the  seminary  have  offered  to  give  me  a  lot  of 
ground  to  build  on.  It  is  proposed  (supposing  such  an  ob- 
ject could  be  accomplished)  to  begin  on  a  small  plan,  ad- 
mitting of  enlargement  if  necessary,  in  the  hope  and  expec- 
tation that  there  will  not  be  wanting  ladies  to  join  in  form- 
ing a  permanent  institution.  But  what  can  a  creature  so 
poor  in  resources  do?  I  must  trust  all  to  Divine  Provi- 
dence. .  .  .  With  that  frankness  I  owe  to  you,  from  whom 
no  thought  of  my  mind  should  be  concealed,  I  dare  to  ask  my 
brother  how  far  and  to  what  sum  I  may  look  up  to  yourself 
and  honored  brother  in  this  position  of  things  ?  What  you 
have  done  is  so  unmerited  by  the  receiver,  what  you  con- 
tinually  are  doing  for  us  is  so  much  more  than  could  in  any 
way  ba  expected,  that  I  force  myself  to  ask  this  question, 
whicl  is,  however,  necessary  ta  the  regularity  of  my  proceed- 


MRS.   E.   A.    8ETOIT.  219 

ings  and  the  respect  due  to  these  reverend  gentlemen  who 
interest  themselves  so  earnestly  in  our  regard.  At  all  events, 
whatever  may  be  the  result  of  this  letter  on  your  dear  heart, 
let  it  not  be  a  moment  checked  in  the  sentiment  which  is 
my  greatest  happiness  in  this  world.  Write,  I  conjure  you, 
Antonio;  if  you  think  your  poor  little  sister  even  wrong,  at 
least  pity  her,  and  love  her  forever  as  she  does  you." 

In  thus  appealing  to  the  munificent  friendship  of  Mr. 
Filicchi,  Mrs.  Seton  felt  on  the  one  hand  that  fear,  which 
was  the  natural  suggestion  of  prudence,  that  she  might  be 
presuming  too  much  upon  his  aid,  while  on  the  other  she 
was  encouraged,  by  his  noble  and  repeated  offers,  to  trust 
largely  in  his  assistance.  Although  his  beneficiary,  she  was 
induced  by  his  generous  manner  to  waive  all  delicacy  in 
accepting  and  even  in  soliciting  his  kindness.  He  found 
80  much  pleasure  in  supplying  her  wants,  he  urged  her  so 
emphatically  to  draw  upon  his  means,  he  reminded  her  so 
constantly  that  he  considered  her  in  a  great  measure  the 
occasion  of  his  increased  prosperity  in  this  world,  that  he 
made  the  acceptance  of  his  generosity  appear  as  much  in  the 
light  of  a  favor  conferred  upon  him  as  a  service  rendered 
to  others.  All  this  he  had  manifested  in  his  previous  let- 
ters; and  his  answer  to  Mrs.  Seton's  last  communication 
was  equally  significant  of  his  sterling  and  practical  friend- 
ship. "I  am  extremely  pleased,"  he  says,  "in  seeing  you 
out  of  New  York,  among  true  Christians,  surrounded  by  all 
your  children,  and  under  the  holy  tuition  of  such  worthy 
persons  as  those  you  mention.  To  promote  the  establish- 
ment you  intimate,  so  much  approved  of  by  my  Cheverua 
and  Matignon,  you  will  please  to  draw  on  our  friends,  J. 
Murray  &  Sons,  of  New  York,  for  one  thousand  dollars, 
charging  the  same  to  the  account  in  the  world  to  come  of 
my  brother  Philip  and  of  your  brother  Antonio.  If  some- 
thine;  more  should  be  wanted,  you  are  commanded  to  quote 


220  THE    LIFE    Of 

it  to  ma  plainly  and  positively.  Your  prayers  have  so  muct 
bettered  our  mercantile  importance  here  below,  that,  in  spite 
of  all  the  embargoes,  political  and  commercial  troubles  which 
have  caused  and  will  cause  the  utter  ruin  of  many,  we  pos- 
sess greater  means  now  than  before,  thanks  to  Go4,  with  the 
game  unalterable  good- will." 

Although  Mrs.  Seton  did  not  receive  this  additional 
testimony  of  Mr.  Filicchi's  friendship  for  many  months 
after  she  had  written  to  him,  she  was  well  assured,  by  hia 
uniform  kindness,  that  in  case  of  need  his  co-operation  in 
her  undertaking  would  be  cheerfully  and  efficiently  be- 
stowed. Encouraged  also  by  all  around  her,  she  opened 
her  boarding-school  for  young  ladies  about  the  beginning 
of  September,  and  easily  obtained  the  limited  number  of 
pupils  that  she  proposed  to  educate.  The  main  .object  of 
her  institution  being  to  impart  a  solid  religious  instruction 
and  form  the  youthful  heart  to  the  love  and  practice  of 
virtue,  only  the  children  of  Catholic  parents  were  admitted. 
Besides  morning  and  evening  prayer,  they  assisted  regu- 
larly at  the  holy  sacrifice  of  the  mass  and  the  recitation  of 
the  rosary.  The  remainder  of  the  time  was  devoted  to  the 
usual  branches  of  female  education,  as  reading,  writing,  arith- 
metic, plain  and  fancy  needlework,  and  the  English  and 
French  languages.  The  study  of  the  Christian  doctrine, 
however,  was  the  principal  object  of  their  attention,  which 
Mrs.  Seton  endeavored  to  impress  deeply  upon  their  minds. 

Though  the  institution  which  she  had  opened  implied 
on  her  part  no  obligations  arising  from  a  special  consecra- 
tion of  herself  to  God,  yet  she  looked  forward  to  the  mo 
ment  when  such  a  vocation  would  be  manifested  by  Divire 
Providence;  and  she  regulated  her  actions  as  if  she  Lad  al 
ready  commenced  a  life  of  religious  seclusion,  living  retired 
from  the  world,  and  applying  herself  only  to  the  duties  of 
her  charge  and  what  would  tend  directly  to  the  advance- 


MRS.    E.   A.    SETON.  221 

merit  of  her  spiritual  welfare.  Hence,  she  paid  no  visits  but 
those  which  business  or  charity  required.  In  retirement 
from  the  world  she  found  a  blessed  peace,  for  she  thereby 
escaped  the  distractions  cf  secular  life,  and  was  enabled 
more  easily  to  commune  with  God  in  the  meditation  of  hea- 
venly things;  or,  as  she  herself  expresses  it,  she  was  "in 
the  secret  of  God's  tabernacle,  where  alone  safety  was  to  be 
found,  with  true  liberty  and  sweet  content."  Her  visits  to 
the  Blessed  Sacrament  were  frequent,  and  she  approached 
the  holy  communion  every  day,  unless  some  particular  cir- 
cumstance prevented  it.  In  this  constant  attention  to  holy 
things  she  found  her  greatest  happiness,  setting  to  profit 
the  means  of  sanctification  which  she  enjoyed,  and  prizing 
them  above  all  worldly  advantages.  We  may  judge  of  her 
recollection,  fervor,  and  interior  joy,  from  the  language 
which  she  employed  in  alluding  to  her  spiritual  privileges  :— 
"Every  morning  at  communion,  living  in  the  very  wounds 
of  our  dearest  Lord,  seeing  only  his  representatives,  and  re- 
ceiving their  benediction  continually." 

Besides  the  scholastic  exercises  mentioned  above,  it  was 
usual  to  read  to  the  pupils  every  Friday  the  narrative  of  our 
Saviour's  passion,  to  inflame  their  hearts  with  a  becoming 
sense  of  gratitude  and  love  for  their  divine  Redeemer. 
The  religious  instruction  of  the  scholars  was  confided  to  the 
Rev.  Peter  Babade,  of  the  society  of  St.  Sulpitius,  and  a 
professor  at  St.  Mary's  College.  Soon  after  Mrs.  Seton 
formed  his  acquaintance,  she  discovered  in  him  a  spirit  con- 
genial to  her  own — a  man  of  vivid  fancy  and  ardent  tempera- 
ment, with  a  frankness  and  suavity  of  manner  which  won 
her  entire  confidence  and  led  her  to  select  him  for  the  di- 
rection of  her  conscience.  Mr.  Babade  frequently  visited 
the  school,  and  was  the  spiritual  father  and  protector  of  the 
little  family  of  which  Mrs.  Seton  was  the  head.  In  the 
spring  of  1809  he  prepared  some  of  the  children  for  the  im- 
10* 


222  THE    LIFE    Off 

portaut  duty  of  first  communion  which  took  place  at  tha 
close  of  a  spiritual  retreat.  On  this  occasion  Mrs.  Seton 
was  transported  with  the  heauty  and  holiness  of  the  scene 
around  her.  The  solemnity  of  the  season, — it  being  the  pas- 
chal time, — the  impressive  services  of  the  Church,  and  youth- 
ful innocence  sealing  its  consecration  to  our  Lord  by  an  in- 
effable union  with  him  in  the  sacrament  of  his  love,  all  con- 
tributed to  enliven  her  faith  and  inflame  her  soul  with  the 
most  ardent  devotion.  Writing  to  a  sister-in-law  at  thia 
time,  she  thus  alludes  to  the  spiritual  delights  which  she 
enjoyed: — "0  Cecil,  Cecil,  this  heavenly  day,  and  the  hea- 
venly week  that  is  past — every  hour  of  the  week  filled  with 
sacred  sorrow !  and  this  day  imagine  six  of  us,  the  girls  all 
in  white,  as  modest  as  angels,  receiving  from  the  hands  of 
our  blessed  father  Babade  our  adored  Lord.  He  had  been 
all  the  week  preparing  them,  and  every  night  our  little 
chapel  has  resounded  with  love  and  adoration.  This  morn- 
ing, in  the  subterraneous  chapel  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  in 
the  very  depth  of  solitude,  on  the  tomb  of  our  Lord,*  he 
celebrated  the  adorable  sacrifice  and  dispensed  the  Sacred 
Passover.  His  tears  fell  fast  over  his  precious  hands  while 
he  gave  it,  and  we  had  liberty  to  sob  aloud,  unwitnessed  by 
any,  as  no  one  had  an  idea  of  our  going  there.  What  a 
scene !  Could  you  but  have  shared  it !  Immediately  after, 
the  dear  Mr.  Dubourg  came  down,  and  said  the  mass  of 
thanksgiving,  served  by  our  father  Babade,  whose  gray 
hairs  looked  more  venerable  than  can  be  expressed.  Every 
night  we  have  Benediction.  Imagine  twenty  priests,  all 
with  the  devotion  of  saints,  clothed  in  white,  accompanied 
by  the  whole  troop  of  the  young  seminarians  in  surplice* 
also,  all  in  order,  surrounding  the  Blessed  Sacrament  ex* 


•  An  altar,  with  an  opening  in  front,  containing  a  representation  of 
V  Baviour  in  a  state  of  death. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SET  ON.  223 

posed,  singing  the  hymn  of  the  resurrection.  When  they 
come  to  the  words,  '  Peace  be  to  all  here,'  it  seems  as  if  our 
Lord  is  again  acting  over  the  scene  that  passed  with  the 
assembled  disciples." 

This  happiness  which  Mrs.  Seton  experienced  was  a 
source  of  great  satisfaction  to  the  few  cherished  friends 
whom  she  had  left  on  removing  to  Baltimore, — but  particu- 
larly to  her  sisters-in-law,  whom  we  have  already  mentioned 
as  sympathizing  warmly  in  her  trials  and  remaining  stead- 
fast in  their  affection  despite  the  frowns  of  her  adversaries. 
These  true  and  faithful  relatives,  although  pained  by  the 
separation  which  deprived  them  of  her  valued  society,  re- 
joiced for  her  sake  that  she  had  found,  at  a  distance  from 
her  native  place,  increased  happiness  for  herself  and  her 
children.  Miss  Harriet  Seton  wrote  to  her  immediately 
after  her  departure  from  New  York  in  the  most  affectionate 
strain.  After  expressing  the  intensity  of  her  suffering  by 
the  loss  she  had  sustained,  she  adds: — "But  why  should  I 
have  but  one  pang?  When  1  can  already  view  you  in  the 
bosom  of  happiness,  can  fancy  1  see  your  dear  countenance 
brighten  with  joy  when  pressing  to  your  breast  your  sweet 
little  boys,  for  a  moment  I  can  almost  cease  to  regret  your 
absence;  but,  when  reflecting  that  that  absence,  in  all 
human  probability,  may  be  an  eternal  one,  I  shudder.  I  am 
resolved  to  think  so  no  more:  it  cannot  be.  HE  is  too  good 
and  generous  to  permit  a  separation  between  those  who 
love  him  so  tenderly :  by  some  means  or  other  he  will  surely 
unite  us.  I  will  cling  to  that  dear  hope  with  confidence. 
It  will  support  me  under  every  trial,  be  the  soother  of  every 
pain."  These  words,  though  not  prophetic,  were  predictive 
of  truth.  Every  thing  seemed  to  oppose  the  prospect  of  her 
ever  being  united  with  Mrs.  Seton  in  this  life;  and,  sur- 
rounded as  she  was  by  the  gay  and  fashionable  society  of 
New  York,  greatly  admired  for  her  personal  charma,  and 


224  THE    LIFE    0V 

•losely  watched  by  her  family  on  account  of  her  known  pre« 
ference  for  the  Catholic  religion,  she  feared  that  these 
obstacles  might  prove  the  cause  of  an  eternal  separation  fiom 
her  whom  she  so  much  loved.  In  addition  to  this,  she  had 
pledged  her  heart  and  hand  to  a  step-brother  of  Mrs.  Seton, 
who  was  not  a  Catholic, — a  circumstance  which  would  only 
have  increased  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered  in  the 
event  of  her  determination  to  embrace  the  true  faith.  Yet 
she  hoped  as  it  were  against  hope;  and,  when  she  heard  of 
the  happiness  enjoyed  by  her  relative  in  Baltimore,  she  was 
prompted  both  by  affection  and  a  spirit  of  religion  to  sigh 
for  a  reunion.  Alluding  to  the  account  Mrs.  Seton  had 
given  of  the  friendship  she  met  with  in  her  new  situation, 
she  says,  "Where  is  it,  my  beloved  sister,  you  could  go 
without  meeting  with  kindness  and  affection  ?  They  must 
indeed  be  insensible  beings  who  know  you  without  loving 
you.  Your  description  is  delightful.  Every  thought,  every 
hope,  flies  toward  the  happy  spot  you  have  pictured.  Oh 
that  I  may  one  day  be  there,  but  not  in  my  present  state,  to 
be  happy!  Let  me  enjoy  the  precious  privilege  of  serving 
God  in  your  blessed  faith.  What  comfort  can  I  have  in 
my  own,  when  I  know  there  is  a  better?  Dearest  sister, 
pray  for  me  always;  never  forget  me  when  in  the  chapel. 
Recollect,  at  sunset,  I  shall  always  meet  you  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross  in  the  Miserere.  What  a  sweet  remembrance  I" 
These  aspirations  of  her  soul,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel, 
were  all  realized  by  the  merciful  dispensations  of  Provi- 
dence, in  defiance  of  the  obstacles  which  in  the  nuturai 
course  of  things  seemed  to  render  it  impracticable.  In  the 
mean  time  she  found  alleviation  of  her  pain  in  correspond 
ing  with  Mrs.  Seton,  and  in  the  society  of  her  sister  Cecilia, 
who,  as  we  have  seen,  had  so  heroically,  at  the  age  of  fifteen; 
triumphed  over  every  opposition  to  her  union  with  the 
Catholic  Church.  Sho  thus  speaks  of  her  in  a  letter  to  hei 


MRS.    E.    A.    8F.TON.  225 

Btster-in-law  in  Baltimore.  "November  29, 1808. — At  last 
I  am  here,  close  by  my  Cecil's  elbow, — a  situation  that  mon- 
archs  might  envy.  It  is  here  alone  that  my  poor  heart  feeli 
some  little  cessation  from  pain  and  sorrow.  What  anguish 
the  most  acute  could  not  be  hushed  in  her  dear  society! 
Her  presence  actually  works  a  charm  upon  my  mind.  I 
almost  forget  that  pain  ever  found  a  place  in  my  bosom. 
Oh,  my  dearest  sister,  if  it  was  so  that  I  could  be  permitted 
to  remain,  how  sweetly  we  should  pass  the  winter,  thinking, 
speaking,  writing  to  you !  The  world  should  be  forgot,  with 
all  its  various  vanities,  and  we  should  lose  ourselves  in 
thoughts  of  heaven  and  you.  It  is  too  much  to  think  of. 
What  pleasure,  what  happiness,  could  be  equal  to  it?  None 
that  could  give  my  heart  more  real  satisfaction.  You  know 
I  have  been  closely  allied  to  little  misery  for  these  four  01 
five  years  past,  and  need  some  consolation  to  keep  me  from 
going  to  wreck.  Such  being  the  case,  surely  my  darling 
will  not  refuse  an  innocent  request  from  one  who  loves  her 
with  affection  that  no  language  can  describe;  it  is  to  let 
me  share  a  portion  of  your  thoughts  the  27th  of  December. 
It  must  ever  be  a  day  of  bitter  agony  to  you ;  yes,  to  us  all  ;* 
but,  as  it  was  the  will  of  our  dear  Lord,  we  must  bow  sub- 
missive and  kiss  the  rod.  Will  you,  can  you,  uiy  sister,  call 
to  remembrance  that  on  th;it  duy  your  Harriet  was  ushered 
into  existence,  not  to  repost-  upuu  a  bed  of  ruses,  but  of 
thorns,  and  for  many  years  back  has  been  accustomed  to 
share  your  tenderest  thoughts  and  receive  some  rules  of 
conduct  for  the  new  year,  some  little  affectionate  letter  of 
advice  and  comfort  blended?  I  now  stand  more  in  need  of 
this  than  ever,  and  sh;tll  si^h  fir  flu-  arrival  of  that  day  that 
brings  me  if  only  OIK-  line  I.*  -  \  t:,  I  w..,«.  remembered  at 
ho  to  it  ol'  the  cross.' 

*  The  anniversary  of  the  day   on   which    tier   brother,  Mrs.  Seton'i 
huiband,  died. 

f 


226  THE  LIFE   or 

Mrs.  Seton,  on  her  part,  entertained  the  warmest  affeo- 
tion  for  her  sisters  in  New  York,  and  felt  the  deepest  solici- 
tude for  their  welfare,  especially  for  the  three  who  still  re- 
mained in  the  Protestant  communion.  They  were  alwaya 
in  her  thoughts,  and  were  daily  commended  to  God  in  her 
prayers.  "  In  my  dear,  sacred  communions,"  she  saysj 
"  which  are  almost  every  day,  often  my  soul  cries  out  80 
much  for  you  all  that  it  seems  impossible  to  express  the  de- 
sire in  any  words,  but  a  deluge  of  tears  is  the  only  relief." 
On  another  occasion,  alluding  to  two  of  these  cherished  souls, 
she  says,  "They  little  know  what  my  soul  endures  for  them. 
Sweet,  precious  beings  !  gladly,  joyfully,  would  their  own 
Bister  give  the  last  drop  of  her  blood  for  them  !" 

But,  knowing  well  how  sensibly  her  absence  was  felt  by 
Miss  Cecilia  Seton,  the  generous  little  convert  to  Catholicity, 
Mrs.  Seton  ardently  desired  and  prayed  that  the  Almighty 
would  permit  her  to  join  her  in  Baltimore.  This  young  but 
eminently  pious  Christian  had  always  found  in  Mrs.  Seton 
a  beloved  companion,  a  counsellor  in  her  difficulties,  and  a 
consoler  in  the  hour  of  trial;  and  she  could  not  but  suffer 
intensely  by  a  separation  from  so  loved  and  valued  a  friend. 
Nothing,  however,  could  abate  her  fervor  in  the  practice  of 
religion.  Although  left  alone  among  her  Protestant  rela- 
tives, she  persevered  with  constancy  in  the  faithful  perform- 
ance of  her  duties.  Her  actions  were  all  regulated  by  a  rule 
having  the  approbation  of  her  director;  and,  though  its  ob- 
servance was  not  always  perfectly  agreeable  to  human  nature, 
cdedience  made  it  "sweet  and  easy,"  supporting  her  continu- 
ally with  the  thought  that  she  was  accomplishing  the  will  of 
Heaven.  In  the  frequentation  of  the  sacraments  ghe  found 
her  "greatest  earthly  happiness,"  and  her  soul  overflowed 
with  consolation  at  the  thought  of  the  blessings  imparted  in 
the  holy  communion.  It  gave  her  unspeakable  pleasure  to 
hear  from  her  sister  in  Baltimore;  but  she  did  not  too  easily 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  22T 

jricld  to  the  impulse  of  natural  affection;  to  purify  her  in- 
tention she  would  sometimes  before  opening  her  letters 
offer  her  heart  to  God  or  make  an  act  of  resignation.  Hav- 
ing chosen  a  heavenly  spouse  to  whom  she  had  consecrated 
all  her  affections,  she  firmly  resisted  the  allurements  of  the 
world  when  it  sought  to  withdraw  her  from  that  holy  life 
which  she  had  embraced.  Entirely  dependent  on  the  care 
of  an  affectionate  brother,  who  was  a  Protestant,  Miss  Seton 
was  at  times  under  the  necessity  of  enduring  with  patience 
what  otherwise  her  piety  would  have  invincibly  opposed. 
On  one  occasion,  she  was  compelled  by  her  brother  to  assist 
at  a  theatrical  exhibition,  which  she  did  with  the  utmost 
reluctance  and  unwillingness,  and  only  for  the  sake  of 
escaping  a  greater  evil.  But,  though  present  in  body,  her 
mind  was  far  from  mingling  in  the  excitement  of  the  drama. 
To  prevent  her  eyes  from  falling  upon  those  objects  which 
others  have  so  much  curiosity  to  see,  she  placed  her  little 
niece  on  her  lap  before  her,  and,  instead  of  paying  any  at- 
tention to  what  was  passing  around,  she  spent  the  time  in 
the  recitation  of  the  rosary. 

The  Catholicity  of  Miss  Cecilia  Seton  rendered  her 
situation  any  thing  but  agreeable  among  her  Protestant 
relatives.  Some  of  them  treated  her  with  the  utmost  kind- 
ness, while  from  others  she  met  with  "angry  words  and 
cross  looks,"  as  she  herself  expresses  it.  Her  religion  was 
abused  in  her  presence,  its  "abominations"  descanted  upon, 
and,  between  those  who  wished  her  out  of  New  York  and 
others  who  held  her  back,  she  knew  no  alternative  but  to 
suffer  in  silence  for  the  love  of  God.  "I  would  go  any- 
where else,"  she  says,  "and  be  the  meanest  servant.  .  .  . 
Was  there  not  an  all-wise  Creator  to  direct,  and  a  Jesus  to 
recompense  for  our  pains,  I  know  not  what  I  should  thins 
of  my  situation."  In  these  trials  she  was  strengthened  and 
•onsoled  by  the  reflection  that  she  was  suffering  persecution 


THE    LIFE    Of 

for  justice'  sake,  for  that  Divine  Master  whose  grace  would 
enable  her  to  bear  it.  "  How  sweet  is  it  to  feel  that  we 
suffer  with  and  for  Jesus!  My  soul  truly  rejoices.  The 
cup  is  at  first  bitter,  but  in  it  there  is  an  unknown  delight 
for  those  that  truly  love.  Dear,  dearest  sister,  if  I  was  with 
you  I  should  not  have  these  sighs,  these  tears,  these  maiij 
offerings  to  make.  I  fear  my  scales  would  be  very  light.' 
In  transmitting  an  account  of  her  situation  to  Mrs.  Seton 
she  recommended  herself  to  her  prayers,  expressing  the  firm 
conviction  that  God  would  in  his  own  good  time  deliver 
her  from  this  conflict.  The  answer  which  she  received  will 
show  that  she  could  not  have  unbosomed  her  feelings  to 
one  who  would  be  a  better  support  to  her  amid  the  contra- 
dictions which  she  suffered. 

"  Yes,  my  Cecilia,  favored  of  heaven,  associate  of  angels, 
beloved  child  of  Jesus,  you  shall  have  the  victory,  and  HE 
the  glory.  To  him  be  glory  forever  who  has  called  you  to 
BO  glorious  a  combat  and  so  tenderly  supports  you  through 
it.  You  will  triumph,  for  it  is  Jesus  who  fights,  not  you, 
my  dear  one.  Oh,  no !  young  and  timid,  weak  and  irreso- 
lute, the  lamb  could  not  stem  the  torrent  nor  stand  the 
beating  storm:  but  the  tender  shepherd  takes  it  on  his 
shoulder,  casts  his  cloak  about  it,  and  the  happy  trembler 
finds  itself  at  home  before  it  knew  its  journey  was  half 
finished.  And  so,  my  dear  one,  it  will  be  with  you.  He 
will  not  leave  you  one  moment,  nor  suffer  the  least  harm  to 
approach  you ;  not  one  tear  shall  fall  to  the  ground  nor  ono 
sigh  of  love  be  lost.  Happy,  happy  child  !  and  if  you  are 
not  removed  to  the  sheltering  fold  that  awaits  you,  he  will 
make  you  one  in  his  own  bosom  until  your  task  is  done. 
Happy,  happy  child !  how  sweet  must  be  your  converse  with 
that  Divine  Spirit  which  puts  in  your  heart,  yet  so  inex- 
perienced, so  untutored,  the  science  of  the  Saints  !  How 
mist  those  blessed  beings  rejoice  over  you,  while  walking 


MRS.   X.   A.   SETOW.  229 

40  steadfastly  in  their  paths  and  their  sufferings !  It  is  poor 
sister  who  must  beg  you  to  pray  for  her.  I  am  at  rest,  my 
darling,  while  you  are  mounting  the  heights  of  Sion.  Often, 
too,  I  sleep  in  the  garden  while  you  are  sharing  the  hitter 
cup :  hut  it  is  not  to  be  so  long ;  his  mercies  are  endless, 
and  I  shall  not  be  left  without  my  portion.  Pray  for  me 
that  it  may  not  come  from  within :  that,  and  that  alone,  is 
real  anguish.  As  it  is,  I  am  daily  and  hourly  receiving  the 
most  precious  consolations,  not  with  the  enthusiastic  delight 
you  know  I  once  experienced,  but  gently,  gratefully  offering 
to  resign  them  in  the  very  moment  of  enjoyment.  Your 
letter  will  be  food  for  thanksgiving  and  joy  in  our  dear  Lord 
beyond  all  human  calculations.  I  would  willingly  go  through 
any  bodily  suffering  to  receive  such  a  feast  for  the  soul. 
What  shall  I  say  in  this  case?  God  alone  is  sufficient. 
Our  blessed  Padre*  has  wept  with  joy  at  reading  your  letter; 
I  have  also  consulted  Mr.  Dubourg,  and  all  agree  that  it  is  a 
case  which  the  hand  of  man  must  deem  sacred  and  consign 
to  God  alone ;  but  not  without  the  assurance  that  all  our 
prayers  are  and  shall  be  united  for  your  most  precious  soul's 
support  and  consolation.  .  .  .  My  darling  child,  may  you  be 
soon  released  if  it  is  his  blessed  will !  but  the  sacrifice  must 
be  consummated,  and  sister's  soul  prays  for  you  unceasingly, 
nor  is  it  unaided  by  prayers  of  much  more  worth.  How 
many  holy  souls  are  perpetually  united  for  that  end  I  ...  A. 
thousand  blessings  be  with  you."  August  8,  1808. 

To  be  associated  with  her  sister,  enjoying  every  facility 
for  the  entire  dedication  of  herself  to  God,  would  have  com- 
pleted the  happiness  of  Miss  Seton.  But  even  in  this  she 
strove  to  conform  herself  to  the  divine  will.  When  she  was 
apprised  of  Mrs.  Seton's  arrival  in  Baltimore  and  the  cheer- 
ing prospect  before  her,  the  tears  gushed  from  her  eyesj  but, 

•  ROT.  Mr.  Babade. 


<230  THE    LIFE    OF 

as  she  remarks  herself,  they  were  not  tears  of  regret  or  im- 
patience to  be  with  her,  hut  of  a  soul  wholly  resigned  to  her 
God,  desiring  only  his  will,  and  even  feeling  happy  at  being 
permitted  to  make  so  great  a  sacrifice.  On  the  other  hand, 
every  day  and  every  hour  she  became  more  and  more  dis- 
gusted with  the  world  and  all  that  belongs  to  it,  and  her 
thoughts  involuntarily  turned  upon  the  happiness  of  being 
with  her  sister.  "I  feel  my  situation,"  she  says,  "daily 
more  painful.  It  is  God  only  that  can  know  all.  It  seems 
to  me  he  will  not  let  it  remain  long  so.  I  am  hourly  in 
fear  of  splitting  on  the  many  quicksands  and  rocks  which 
surround  me.  Oh,  sister,  when  shall  I  be  delivered  from 
them?  And  when  I  think  of  being  with  you  it's  like  think- 
ing of  paradise." 

Such  were  the  elevated  motives  that  prompted  her  desire 
of  retiring  from  the  world.  She  had  in  view  only  the  glory 
of  God  and  her  own  sanctification ;  looking  upon  a  state  of 
religious  seclusion  not  as  a  life  of  ease  and  pleasure,  but  one 
of  penance  and  humiliation. 

To  ascertain  the  divine  will  in  her  regard,  she  prayed 
frequently  and  with  fervor  to  the  Father  of  lights,  offered 
her  communions  for  this  purpose,  and  made  known  to  her 
spiritual  guide  all  the  circumstances  of  her  situation  and 
the  dispositions  of  her  soul.  At  length,  in  the  spring  of 
1809,  he  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  Almighty  called  her 
to  a  state  of  religious  seclusion,  and  directed  her  to  place 
her  trust  in  him  until  he  would  appoint  the  moment  for  the 
accomplishment  of  her  wishes. 

When  Mrs.  Seton  commenced  her  institution  in  Balti- 
more, she  had  no  certain  prospect  of  forming  a  society  whose 
members  would  be  specially  consecrated  to  the  service  of 
God.  Such  an  undertaking  was  to  depend  on  circumstance* 
which  could  only  be  developed  in  the  course  of  time.  la 
the  autumn  of  1808  the  designs  of  Providence  began  tc 


MRS.   £.    A.    SETON 

manifest  themselves  more  particularly  in  her  regard.  The 
Rev.  Mr.  Babade,  being  on  a  missionary  excursion  at  Phila- 
delphia, became  acquainted  with  a  young  lady  (Miss  Cecilia 
O'Conway)  who  was  desirous  of  seeking  a  refuge  from  the 
distractions  of  the  world,  and  for  this  purpose  was  preparing 
to  cross  the  Atlantic.  Having  informed  her  of  Mrs.  Seton' s 
intentions,  she  was  induced  to  change  her  plans  and  remain 
in  America.  Her  father  accompanied  her  to  Baltimore,  and 
offered  her  to  Mrs.  Seton  as  a  child  whom  he  consecrated  to 
God.  On  the  7th  of  December,  Miss  O'Conway  became  her 
first  companion,  and  assisted  in  the  school  then  under  her 
charge.  In  this  manifestation  of  Divine  Providence  Mr. 
Babade  thought  that  he  discerned  the  commencement  of  an 
undertaking  which  would  gradually  collect  round  Mrs.  Seton 
a  numerous  band  of  spiritual  daughters,  and  he  applied  to 
her,  requesting  her  at  the  same  time  to  repeat  continually 
those  words  of  the  112th  psalm,  "  Who  maketh  the  barren 
woman  to  dwell  in  a  house,  the  joyful  mother  of  children." 
About  this  time  another  circumstance  took  place  which 
still  more  plainly  indicated  the  will  of  God  in  reference  to 
the  good  work.  Mr.  Cooper,  who  was  then  a  student  in  St. 
Mary's  Seminary,  at  Baltimore,  intending,  if  such  were  the 
divine  will,  to  prepare  himself  for  the  sacred  ministry,  pos- 
sessed some  property;  and  he  was  desirous  of  literally  follow- 
ing the  maxim  of  the  gospel : — "  Go,  sell  what  thou  hast,  and 
give  it  to  the  poor,  and  come,  follow  me."  One  morning, 
immediately  after  receiving  the  holy  communion,  Mrs. 
Seton  felt  a  strong  inclination  arise  within  her  to  dedicate 
herself  to  the  care  and  instruction  of  poor  female  children, 
and  to  organize  some  plan  for  this  purpose  that  might  be  con- 
tinued even  after  her  death.  She  communicated  this  to  the 
Rer.  Mr.  Dubourg.  "This  morning,"  she  said,  "in  my  dear 
communion,  I  thought,  '  Dearest  Saviour,  if  you  would  but 
give  me  the  care  of  poor  little  children,  no  matter  how  poor;' 


232  THE   LIFE   or 

and,  Mr.  Cooper  being  directly  before  me  at  his  thanksgiving, 
I  thought,  '  He  has  money  : — if  he  would  but  give  it  for  the 
bringing  up  of  poor  little  children,  to  know  and  love  you!"' 
Mr.  Dubourg,  joining  his  hands,  observed  that  it  was  very 
strange ;  for  Mrs.  Seton  had  not  mentioned  the  subject  to 
any  one  else.  "  Mr.  Cooper,"  said  he,  "  spoke  to  me  thui 
very  morning  of  his  thoughts  being  all  for  poor  children's 
instruction,  and  if  he  had  somebody  to  do  it  he  would  give 
his  money  for  that  purpose ;  and  he  wondered  if  Mrs.  Seton 
would  be  willing  to  undertake  it."  The  good  priest  was 
struck  at  the  coincidence  of  their  views,  and  he  requested 
them  ea-ch  to  reflect  upon  the  subject  for  the  space  of  a 
month,  and  then  to  acquaint  him  with  the  result.  During 
this  time  there  was  no  interchange  of  opinion  between  Mrs. 
Seton  and  Mr.  Cooper  in  relation  to  their  wishes ;  and  at 
the  expiration  of  it  they  both  returned  separately  to  Mr. 
Dubourg,  renewing  the  sentiments  they  had  expressed  be- 
fore, one  offering  a  portion  of  his  temporal  means*  and  the 
other  her  devoted  service  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  and  suf- 
fering members  of  Christ.  The  providence  of  God  in  behalf 
of  the  American  Church  was  so  clearly  indicated  in  the  cir- 
cumstances just  related  that  little  room  was  left  for  delibera- 
tion. Bishop  Carroll,  having  been  informed  of  the  design, 
gave  his  warmest  approbation  to  it,  in  conjunction  with  the 
Rev.  Francis  Nagot,  the  saintly  superior  of  St.  Mary's  Semi- 
nary; and  the  only  question  that  now  presented  itself  for 
consideration  was  in  reference  to  the  locality  of  the  intended 
establishment.  Mr.  Dubourg,  who  was  the  prime  mr.ver  in 
the  undertaking,  was  anxious  to  have  the  institution  in  the 
city  of  Baltimore  or  its  vicinity.  But  Mr.  Cooper  gently 
insisted  upon  the  selection  of  Emmettsburg  as  a  more  conve- 
nient situation;  and  the  good  priest,  taking  his  words  as  pro- 

•  Eight  thousand  dollars. 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETON.  238 

phetic,  replied,  "Be  it  Emmettsburg."  Mr.  Cooper's  prefer- 
ence for  this  situation  was  no  doubt  founded  upon  the  phy- 
sical and  moral  advantages  which  it  offered  for  a  religious 
community.  Far  from  the  bustle  and  dissipation  of  the  city, 
remarkable  for  a  pure  and  healthy  atmosphere,  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  wild  grandeur  of  its  mountain  scenery,  it  pre- 
•ented  peculiar  attractions  for  a  conventual  establishment. 

The  munificent  aid  contributed  by  Mr.  Cooper  toward 
the  proposed  institution  justly  entitles  him  to  be  considered 
one  of  its  principal  benefactors.  He,  like  Mrs.  Seton,  had 
been  called  from  the  highway  of  error  into  the  fold  of 
Catholic  truth.  Born  in  Virginia,  in  the  very  heart  of  Pro- 
testantism, he  engaged  in  maritime  pursuits,  and  visited  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  globe.  Falling  dangerously  sick  at  Paris, 
he  felt  himself  urged  to  read  the  Holy  Scriptures,  with  which 
he  had  not  yet  been  acquainted.  This  reading  greatly  in- 
terested him,  and  caused  him  to  reflect  seriously  upon  the 
unhappy  consequences  of  being  unconcerned  about  the 
future.  The  New  Testament  particularly  made  a  deep  im- 
pression upon  his  mind,  and  to  it  he  mainly  attributed  his 
conversion.  While  he  read  of  the  ineffable  goodness  of  the 
Son  of  God,  he  burned  with  love  for  him  without  yet  know- 
ing him,  and  he  ardently  desired  to  have  a  friend  like  Him 
whose  history  he  had  perused.  One  day  he  heard,  or  thought 
that  he  heard,  a  voice  saying  to  him,  "  If  you  wish  me  to  be 
your  friend,  it  depends  only  upon  yourself."  Some  time 
after,  while  at  London,  always  occupied  with  the  same 
thought  and  engaged  in  reading  the  New  Testament,  in 
which  he  continually  discovered  new  beauties,  he  heard  the 
same  voice  addressing  him  a  second  time ;  but  it  did  not  in- 
dicate to  him  the  way  of  acquiring  the  happiness  to  which 
he  aspired.  He  therefore  opened  his  thoughts  and  feelings 
lo  a  Protestant  friend,  who  advised  him  to  examine  the 
claims  of  the  different  Christian  denominations,  with  tht 
20* 


234  THE    LIFE    01 

view  of  embracing  that  which  would  appear  to  him  the  besW 
founded  in  truth.  Accordingly,  he  provided  himself  with 
the  doctrinal  hooks  of  the  various  sects  in  England,  and  re- 
turned to  the  United  States,  resolved  to  enter  seriously  upon 
the  investigation  of  the  subj  ect.  A  Catholic  lady  completed 
his  sources  of  information  by  giving  him  a  work  that  treated 
of  the  orthodox  faith.*  In  the  course  of  his  inquiries  he 
also  consulted  Bishop  White,  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church  in  Pennsylvania,  and  other  clergymen  of  note,  espe- 
cially to  satisfy  his  mind  in  regard  to  the  reasons  that  had  led 
to  the  separation  from  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  16th  cen- 
tury. The  result  of  this  examination  was  the  conviction 
that  the  reformation,  so  called,  was  altogether  indefensible; 
and  in  the  autumn  of  1807,  during  the  visitation  of  Bishop 
Carroll  at  Philadelphia,  he  became  a  member  of  the  true 
Church.  Mr.  Cooper  being  a  man  of  fortune,  and  having 
mingled  in  fashionable  life,  his  conversion  produced  a  great 
sensation  in  that  city.  Soon  after  this  happy  event  he  was 
moved  by  the  grace  of  God  to  embrace  the  ecclesiastical 
state,  and  he  entered  the  seminary  at  Baltimore  in  Septem- 
ber, 1808,  where  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Seton 
and  became  a  co-operator  in  the  charitable  work  which  she 
now  contemplated. 

The  vicinity  of  Emmettsburg  having  been  selected  for 
the  location  of  the  sisterhood  projected  by  Mrs.  Seton,  Mr. 
Dubourg  turned  his  attention  to  the  purchase  of  an  eligible 
rite;  and,  on  a  visit  to  that  part  of  the  country  shortly  after 
he  bought  the  land  now  held  by  the  Daughters  of  Charity, 
about  half  a  mile  south  of  the  village.  At  that  time  the  only 
tenement  on  the  farm  was  a  very  small  stone  building,  form- 
ng  about  one-half  of  what  is  now  used  as  the  wash-house  of 
the  institution.  The  property  was  settled  in  the  joint 

•  Ami  de  la  Religion,  December,  "".843. 


MBS,    E.    A.    SETON.  238 

tenantship  of  the  Rev.  Wm.  V.  Dubourg,  Rev.  John  Dubois, 
and  Samuel  Cooper.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois  was  at  that 
time  located  near  Emniettsburg,  being  pastor  of  several  con- 
gregations in  Frederick  county  and  piincipal  of  a  school 
which  he  had  recently  established.  His  important  conneo 
tion  with  the  future  history  of  Mrs.  Seton  requires  that  w« 
should  introduce  him  more  fully  to  the  reader. 

Born  in  Paris  on  the  24th  of  August,  1764,  he  was  re- 
markable from  his  early  years  for  those  qualities  which  dis- 
tinguished him  in  after  life, — piety,  energy,  and  perseverance. 
Having  finished  his  scholastic  course  with  great  honor  to 
himself,  he  embraced  the  ecclesiastical  state,  and  was  ele- 
vated to  the  priesthood  in  the  year  1787.  He  officiated  in 
Paris  until  the  outbreak  of  the  revolution,  when,  like  many 
others  of  his  brethren,  he  was  forced  to  seek  an  asylum  in  a 
foreign  land.  Having  arrived  at  Norfolk,  Va.,  in  July,  1 791, 
he  obtained  from  Bishop  Carroll  the  necessary  faculties  for 
officiating  at  that  place  and  at  Richmond.  Furnished  with 
commendatory  letters  from  General  Lafayette,  he  formed  the 
acquaintance  of  many  distinguished  men  of  the  times  in  this 
country,  among  whom  were  James  Monroe  and  Patrick 
Henry,  to  the  latter  of  whom  he  was  indebted  for  occasional 
lessons  in  the  English  language.  The  kindest  attentions 
were  paid  to  him  by  these  and  other  illustrious  individuals; 
and  it  was  undoubtedly  owing  to  their  intervention  that  he 
was  permitted  to  offer  up  the  holy  sacrifice  in  the  capital  of 
Virginia,  where  but  a  short  time  before  a  Catholic  priest  bad 
been  compelled,  in  visiting  his  flock,  to  disguise  himself  for 
the  protection  of  his  person  and  life.  When  he  had  acquired 
some  knowledge  of  the  English  tongue,  Mr.  Dubois  was  ap- 
pointed by  Bishop  Carroll  to  the  charge  of  the  congregations 
of  which  Fredericktown,  in  Maryland,  was  the  central  point; 
and  from  the  year  1794  to  1808  he  was  continually  employed 
\n  passing  from  one  station  to  another,  preaching,  aduiinis- 


236  THE    LIFE     OP 

tering  the  sacraments,  and  instructing  the  young.  By  hi* 
exertions  the  first  Catholic  church  at  Frederick  was  erected, 
and  from  this  place  he  visited  once  a  mouth,  and  alternately, 
the  church  in  the  village  of  Emmettsburg  and  a  chapel  at  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  about  two  miles  from  the  town.  At 
this  period  the  country  around  wore  but  slight  traces  of  cul- 
tivation ;  the  wildness  of  the  forest  was  visible  on  every  side. 
In  November,  1805,  the  two  congregations  above  mentioned 
assembled  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  cleared  a  sufficient  space 
for  the  site  of  a  house,  and,  having  hewn  logs  for  the  purpose, 
they  erected  a  small  one-story  residence,  containing  two 
rooms.*  In  the  following  spring  they  commenced  the  build- 
ing of  a  brick  church  higher  up  the  mountain,  which  was 
completed  in  1807."}"  Mr.  Dubois  soon  after  took  possession 
of  the  log-house,  and,  together  with  the  pastoral  duties  which 
he  performed,  commenced  a  school  for  the  instruction  of 
youth  in  knowledge  and  piety.  This  school  was  originally 
held  in  a  small  brick  house  at  some  distance  from  the  moun- 
tain, but  was  soon  removed  to  a  more  commodious  log  tene- 
ment on  the  rise  of  the  hill.(W)  Mr.  Dubois  having  in 
1809  become  a  member  of  the  society  of  St.  Sulpitius,  to  his 
care  were  transferred  the  pupils  of  the  preparatory  seminary, 
near  Abbottstown,  Pennsylvania,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
form  professors  for  St.  Mary's  College  and  students  for  the 
seminary  at  Baltimore.0*'  In  the  spring  of  that  year  six- 
teen youths  were  conveyed  from  the  institution  in  Penn- 
sylvania to  the  establishment  near  Emmettsburg,  which  was 
now  designed  as  an  ecclesiastical  school  and  an  appendage 
of  that  in  Baltimore.  But  the  salubrity  of  its  situation,  the 
pure  and  delightful  water  that  abounded  on  the  spot,  and 
above  all  its  remoteness  from  the  vices  and  distractions  of  a 

•  Known  afterward  as  Mr.  Duhatnel's  boose. 

f  The  present  church  on  the  mountain,  but  sine*  enlarged  and  inv 
froTtd. 


MRS.   E.   A.    SETOlf.  237 

city,  induced  many  parents  to  solicit  admission  for  theii 
children,  though  not  aspirants  to  the  priesthood;  and  their 
request  was  granted  the  more  readily  as,  besides  forming 
many  young  persons  to  virtue  and  science,  it  afforded  useful 
employment  to  ecclesiastical  students,  who,  in  pursuing  higher 
studies,  could  devote  a  part  of  their  time  to  the  teaching  of 
inferior  classes.  By  this  arrangement  also  they,  as  well  as 
the  institution,  were  relieved  from  the  expense  of  their  edu- 
cation, and  the  house  was  supplied  with  a  body  of  competent 
instructors.  The  undertaking  succeeded  beyond  the  most 
sanguine  expectations  of  its  zealous  and  holy  founder 
Such  was  the  beginning  of  Mount  St.  Mary's  College,  which 
has  become  so  fruitful  a  nursery  of  science  and  religion,  and 
rendered  such  important  services  to  society  and  to  the  Ame- 
rican Church.  From  this  period  its  history  will  be  found 
closely  interwoven  with  that  of  Mrs.  Seton  and  the  com- 
munity under  her  charge. 

While  the  preliminaries  of  her  undertaking  were  in  pro- 
gress, Almighty  God  was  disposing  the  hearts  of  many  to 
co-operate  in  the  good  work,  and  language  almost  prophetic 
was  addressed  to  her  in  reference  to  its  successful  accom- 
plishment. Rev.  Mr.  Cheverus  no  sooner  heard  of  the  pro- 
posed institution  than  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Seton  in  the  follow- 
ing words,  dated  April  13,  1809: — "How  admirable  is 
Divine  Providence !  /  see  already  numerous  choirs  of  vir- 
gins following  you  to  the  altar.  I  see  your  holy  order  dif- 
fusing itself  in  the  different  parts  of  the  United  States, 
ipreading  everywhere  the  good  odor  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
teaching  by  their  angelical  lives  and  pious  instructions  how 
to  serve  God  in  purity  and  holiness.  I  have  no  doubt,  my 
bebved  and  venerable  sister,  that  He  who  has  begun  this 
work  will  bring  it  to  perfection."  Of  this  result  Mrs.  Seton 
had  the  fullest  confidence,  for  every  thing  indicated  the 
blessing  of  God  upon  the  undertaking,  and  daily  event* 


238  THE    LIFE    Of 

seemed  most  happily  to  concur  in  bringing  it  to  maturity 
She  was  now  hailed  far  and  near  as  the  mother  of  a  new  and 
spiritual  family,  whose  proudest  distinction  would  he  to  wear 
the  badge  of  Christian  perfection;  and  her  heart  expanded 
with  joy  at  the  anticipation  of  the  blessings  which  they  were 
chosen  to  dispense.  "The  scene  before  me,"  she  says,  "is 
heavenly;  I  can  give  you  no  just  idea  of  the  precious  souls 
who  are  daily  uniting  under  my  banner,  which  is  the  cross  of 
Christ.  The  tender  title  of  mother  salutes  me  everywhere, 
even  from  lips  that  have  never  said  to  me  the  common  salu- 
tation among  strangers." 

The  second  lady  who  offered  herself  as  a  candidate  for 
the  new  sisterhood  was  a  Miss  Maria  Murphy  of  Philadel- 
phia, remarkable  for  her  gentle  and  amiable  disposition.  She 
left  the  house  of  her  mother  without  her  consent,  in  obe- 
dience to  what  she  deemed  to  be  the  will  of  God  for  the  sanc- 
tification  of  her  soul,  having  previously  ceded  the  little  pro- 
perty she  possessed  to  her  relatives.  Mrs.  Seton  endeavored 
to  prevail  upon  her  to  return  to  her  family,  but  her  tears 
and  prayers  were  victorious,  and  she  remained  with  the  full 
approbation  of  her  parents.  She  arrived  in  Baltimore  some 
time  in  the  month  of  April,  1809.  In  May  of  the  same 
year  two  others  hailed  Mrs.  Seton  as  their  spiritual  mother, — 
Miss  Mary  Ann  Butler  of  Philadelphia,  and  Miss  Susan 
Glossy  of  New  York,  the  former  only  a  few  days  before  the 
latter.  Several  ladies  in  Baltimore  were  also  preparing 
themselves  at  this  time  to  join  the  community,  while  others 
in  the  vicinity  of  Emmettsburg  looked  forward  with  delight 
to  the  blessings  which  they  hoped  to  enjoy  under  the  spi 
ritual  guidance  of  Mrs.  Seton.  The  following  letter  to  her, 
trom  one  of  these  postulants,  will  show  the  lively  joy  awak- 
ened by  the  expectation  of  her  coming,  as  well  as  the  piety 
and  zeal  which  formed  the  elements  of  the  new  undertaking 
''Oh,  my  reverend  mother!  I  cannot  tell  you  what  an  effect 


MRS.    £.    A.    8  ETON.  239 

tnat  sweet  letter  had  on  me.  It  seems  to  me  it  has  en- 
kindled in  uiy  breast  flames  which  I  hope  with  the  grace  of 
God  will  never  be  extinguished.  .  .  .  My  ghostly  father  de- 
sired me  to  offer  up  my  communion,  not  only  for  you  accord- 
ing to  your  desire,  but  to  obtain  of  our  dear  Lord  an  increase 
of  the  sentiments  which  he  has  been  pleased  to  inspire  me 
with,  through  you,  his  servant.  I  also  implored  that  day  the 
intercession  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  that  she  would  vouchsafe 
to  beg  for  me  of  her  blessed  Son  our  Lord  all  the  requisite 
dispositions  which  I  hope  will  fit  me  for  the  happy  life 
which  I  sue  for.  You  asked  me,  dear  mother,  if  I  did  not 
wish  to  see  the  sisters.  I  do.  But  is  it  not  a  weakness  in 
me?  I  am  afraid  I  seek  for  some  consolation,  and  I  know 
I  ought  not.  Oh,  when  shall  I  be  indifferent  about  any 
thing,  even  spiritual  comforts?  This  I  must  learn  at  your 
school :  for  you  must  know  I  am  but  a  child :  I  only  begin 
to  crawl  in  the  ways  of  God;  and  that  interior  spirit  which 
detaches  us  from  every  thing  that  is  not  God,  and  makes  the 
true  spouse  of  Christ,  I  have  yet  to  acquire.  I  stand  some- 
times on  the  top  of  our  dear  Mount  St.  Mary's,  whence  I 
can  see  the  happy  spot  that  is  to  receive  you  and  my  sisters 
and  myself,  and  I  can  hardly  contain  my  joy."  May  2, 1809. 
Mother  Seton,  as  we  shall  hereafter  call  her,  possessed 
in  an  eminent  degree  that  fervor  which  she  communicated 
to  others;  but  the  sentiment  of  her  own  un worthiness  pre- 
dominated in  her  heart.  She  looked  upon  herself  as  alto- 
gether unsuited  to  the  task  of  forming  souls  to  the  practice 
of  the  Christian  virtues ;  and  on  the  evening  of  the  day  that 
it  was  assigned  to  her  by  the  bishop  and  clergy,  her  spiritual 
advisers,  she  was  seized  with  a  transport  of  mingled  love 
and  humility,  in  reflecting  upon  the  subject.  Being  with 
two  or  three  of  her  sisters,  and  the  discourse  turning  upon 
the  probable  designs  of  Providence  in  their  regard,  Mother 
Seton  became  so  penetrated  with  the  awful  responsibility, 


340  THE    LIFE    07 

»nd  sense  of  her  own  incapacity,  that  she  was  almost  incoc 
soluble.  For  some  momenta  she  wept  bitterly  in  silence, 
then,  throwing  herself  upon  her  knees,  she  confessed  aloud 
the  most  frail  and  humiliating  actions  of  her  life  from  her 
childhood  upward;  after  which  she  exclaimed,  in  the  most 
affecting  manner,  her  hands  and  eyes  raised  toward  heaven 
and  the  tears  gushing  down  her  cheeks,  "  My  gracious  God ! 
You  know  my  unfitness  for  this  task.  I  who  by  my  sins 
have  so  often  crucified  you,  I  blush  with  shame  and  confu- 
sion. How  can  I  teach  others,  who  know  so  little  myself, 
and  am  so  miserable  and  imperfect?"  The  sisters  who  were 
present  were  overwhelmed  by  the  scene  before  them,  and, 
falling  on  their  knees,  gave  vent  to  their  tears  and  painful 
emotions. 

Mother  Seton  having  now  received  four  candidates  into 
her  house,  it  was  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Dubourg  that  the  time 
had  arrived  for  their  assuming,  as  far  as  practicable,  the 
form  of  a  religious  community.  She  therefore  proposed  to 
the  sisters  to  appear  in  a  habit  like  that  which  she  wore  her- 
self, and  which  consisted  of  a  black  dress  with  a  short  cape, 
similar  to  a  costume  that  she  had  observed  among  the  reli- 
gious of  Italy.  Her  head-dress  was  a  neat  white  muslin  cap, 
with  a  crimped  border,  and  a  black  crape  band  around  the 
head,  fastened  under  the  chin.*  This  costume  they  assumed 
on  the  1st  of  June,  1809,  and  the  next  day — feast  of  Corpua 
Christi — they  appeared  at  the  public  service  in  St.  Mary's 
Chapel  for  the  first  time  in  their  conventual  habit,  receiving 
the  divine  sacrament  of  the  altar  as  the  seal  of  their  conse- 
cration to  God,  and  gladdening  the  hearts  of  all  who  wit- 
nessed this  edifying  scene,  so  full  of  promise  to  the  Church. 
Mr.  Dubourg,  in  particular,  was  in  raptures  at  the  spectacle 
presented  by  this  little  band  of  devoted  sisters,  which  had 

•  Mrs.  Seton  had  worn  this  dress  since  the  death  of  her  husband 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  241 

been  formed  under  his  wise  superintendence  and  waa  to  be 
the  germ  of  so  much  good  to  religion  and  society/*' 

Mother  Seton  herself,  with  a  soul  glowing  with  charity 
and  delight,  organized  her  community  by  the  adoption  of 
such  rules  as  circumstances  permitted.  Regular  hours  were 
appointed  for  the  daily  actions  and  duties  of  the  sisters,  who 
were  employed  partly  in  attending  to  the  domestic  concerns 
and  partly  in  conducting  the  exercises  of  the  school.  Stated 
days  were  fixed  for  the  reception  of  the  holy  communion, 
and  the  sisters  were  exhorted  to  practise  the  mortification  of 
the  tongue  and  other  senses,  and  to  apply  to  certain  studies 
for  the  purpose  of  qualifying  themselves  for  fulfilling  the 
future  designs  of  Providence.  No  particular  religious  insti- 
tute had  yet  been  adopted  for  the  final  organization  of  the 
society;  but  it  was  deemed  expedient  that  Mother  Seton 
should  bind  herself,  at  least  for  a  time,  by  some  special  act 
of  consecration,  to  the  holy  life  she  had  embraced;  and  for 
this  reason  she  made  a  vow  privately,  in  the  presence  of 
Bishop  Carroll,  obligating  her  for  the  space  of  one  year  to 
the  practice  of  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience.  With  what 
sentiments  she  assumed  this  additional  obligation  may  be 
best  gathered  from  the  language  in  which  she  herself  alludes 
to  it.  The  object  of  it,  she  says,  was  to  embrace  poverty,  in 
whose  arms  she  desired  to  live  and  die,  and  from  which,  in- 
deed, she  had  no  means  of  escape ;  to  promise  a  chastity  so 
dear  and  lovely  that  she  esteemed  it  her  true  delight  to 
cherish  it ;  and,  above  all,  to  bind  herself  to  obedience,  the 
true  protection  and  safeguard  of  her  soul.  To  give  to  the 
new  community  all  the  care  and  support  which  the  success 
of  such  an  institution  demands,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubourg  was 
appointed  its  ecclesiastical  superior,  whatever  form  it  might 
tubsequently  take.  Various  names  were  suggested  for  the 
designation  of  the  society;  but  this  point  could  not  be  well 
determined  until  the  adoption  of  a  permanent  rule  which 
21  9 


242  THE    LIFE    OF 

would  give  a  fixed  character  to  the  institute.  However,  at 
the  request  of  Mother  Seton,  it  was  agreed  that  the  members 
of  the  community  should  be  called  "  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph ;" 
for  it  was  the  dictate  of  her  piety  to  place  herself  ana 
society,  sisters  and  children,  under  the  protecting  care 
of  St.  Joseph,  the  faithful  guardian  of  the  Son  of  God 
on  earth. 

Shortly  after  the  adoption  of  the  conventual  habit,  ths 
sisterhood  had  an  accession  of  two  members  from  the  city  of 
Baltimore, — Mrs.  Rose  White,  a  widow  lady,  and  Miss  Catha- 
rine Mullen.  Divine  Providence  at  the  same  time  was  waft- 
ing to  this  abode  of  Christian  piety  another  soul,  whose 
highest  ambition  had  long  been  the  total  consecration  of 
herself  to  God,  under  the  maternal  guidance  of  Mother 
Seton.  This  was  Miss  Cecilia  Seton,  her  sister-in-law.  As 
we  have  stated,  her  spiritual  directors  had  finally  decided 
that  she  was  called  to  religious  seclusion ;  but  circumstances 
seemed  to  forbid  the  immediate  execution  of  her  wishes. 
The  Almighty,  however,  listening  to  the  fond  aspirations  of 
her  heart,  which  looked  only  to  his  greater  glory,  accom- 
plished in  her  behalf  what  human  calculations  could  not 
achieve.  She  fell  dangerously  ill,  and  her  physician  deeming 
it  expedient  for  her  safety  to  try  the  effect  of  a  sea-voyage, 
she  at  once  expressed  a  wish  to  visit  Baltimore,  where  she 
was  confident  of  meeting  with  the  tenderest  care  from  Mother 
Seton.  The  arrangements  were  accordingly  made,  and  her 
sister  Harriet,  already  mentioned,  who  had  been  her  constant 
nurse  and  was  nearest  to  her  heart,  was  appointed,  among 
other  attendants,  to  accompany  her,  to  share  her  sufferings, 
and  in  all  probability  to  receive  her  last  sigh.  On  the  12tb 
of  June  they  landed  at  Baltimore,  Miss  Cecilia's  symptom* 
having  grown  much  less  favorable  than  at  her  setting  out 
from  New  York.  But  she  was  now  in  the  arms  of  one 
Whom  she  delighted  to  call  her  sister,  her  friend,  her  mother} 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETOW.  243 

and  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  joy  of  these  devoted 
beings  in  meeting  each  other  again.  Miss  Cecilia's  attend- 
ants having  remained  with  her  a  few  days,  returned  to 
New  York,  with  the  exception  of  her  sister  Harriet,  who 
had  intended  also  to  return,  but  was  compelled  to  stay  with 
her  beloved  and  suffering  relative  in  consequence  of  her 
disease  becoming  still  more  alarming.  In  this  state  of  things 
the  physicians  who  attended  her  in  Baltimore  advised  a  jaunt 
into  the  country;  and  it  was  immediately  determined  that 
Mother  Seton  should  accompany  her  to  the  mountains  of 
Emmettsburg,  the  site  of  her  contemplated  institution. 
As  soon  as  the  necessary  arrangements  could  be  made,  she, 
with  her  two  sisters-in-law,  her  eldest  daughter,  and  Sister 
Maria  Murphy,  left  Baltimore  in  a  coach,  on  the  feast  of 
St.  Aloysius,  21st  of  June,  and  on  the  following  day  the 
party  arrived  at  Emmettsburg.*  The  house  on  the  land 
belonging  to  the  sisterhood  not  being  as  yet  habitable,  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  President  of  Mt.  St.  Mary's  Seminary, 
kindly  offered  them  the  log-house  on  the  mountain,  a  little 
above  the  seminary,  and  paid  them  all  that  attention  and 
hospitable  care  for  which  he  was  proverbial.f  A  few  days 

*  Among  the  papers  of  Mother  Seton  we  find  the  following  note  of 
the  journey  to  Emmettsburg,  which  shows  that,  although  the  ladies  tra- 
velled a  great  portion  of  the  way  on  foot,  they  proceeded  with  light  and 
joyful  hearts.  "We  were  obliged  to  walk  the  horses  all  the  way,  and 
have  walked  ourselves — all  except  Cecilia — nearly  half  the  time :  this 
morning  four  miles  and  a  half  before  breakfast  The  dear  patient  was 
greatly  amused  at  the  procession,  and  all  the  natives  astonished  as  we 
went  before  the  carriage.  The  dogs  and  pigs  came  out  to  m«ot  us,  mi  1 
the  geese  stretched  their  necks  in  mute  demand,  to  know  if  we  were  any 
of  their  sort,  to  which  we  gave  assent."  In  this  happy  description  we 
have  an  illustration  of  that  wonderful  cheerfulness  for  which  Mother 
Seton  was  remarkable. 

f  At  this  time  Mr.  Dubois  had  vacated  the  log-house  on  the  hill,  and 
removed  tc  the  buildings  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  provided  for  tb« 
•eminary 


244  THE    LIFE    Of 

after,  tne  two  younger  daughters  of  Mother  Seton  joined  hei 
at  the  mountain  cot, — an  humble  dwelling  indeed,  but  holy 
and  venerable  in  the  remembrance  of  all  who  beheld  it 
adorned  with  the  beauty  of  every  virtue. 

Measures  were  immediately  taken  to  put  the  farm-he  use 
on  the  property  of  the  sisterhood  in  a  fit  condition  to  be  oc- 
cupied. In  the  mean  time  Miss  Cecilia  Seton  recovered 
her  health,  at  least  temporarily,  and  began  to  enjoy  the 
facilities  which  that  favored  spot  afforded  for  innocent  re 
luxation  and  pious  contemplation.  As  soon  as  her  strength 
permitted  it,  she  would  sally  forth,  in  the  company  of  Mother 
Seton  and  her  sister  Harriet,  to  ramble  in  the  woods  that 
led  to  the  heights  of  the  mountain,  enjoying  equally  the  pure 
and  invigorating  air  and  the  beautiful  prospect  of  the 
romantic  country  around.  On  other  occasions,  she  would 
accompany  Mother  Seton  and  her  children  to  the  little 
church,  situated  above  them  on  the  hill,  to  offer  the  morning 
or  evening  adoration,  or  to  assist  at  the  holy  sacrifice  of 
mass.  Her  sister  Harriet,  however,  not  being  a  Catholic, 
never  followed  them  into  the  chapel,  but  either  walked  in 
the  woods  or  seated  herself  on  a  rock  in  front  of  the  church, 
musing  within  herself,  and  desiring  to  be  with  her  compa- 
nions in  the  holy  place.  One  evening  in  July,  when  the  sun 
was  about  to  sink  behind  the  tops  of  the  trees  that  cover  the 
summit  of  the  mountain,  and  every  thing  in  nature  was 
lovely,  Miss  Harriet  looked  on  every  side,  her  soul  feasting 
upon  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  Still,  a  sad  depression  stole 
over  her  mind.  She  saw  the  little  band  ascend  the  steps  of 
the  chapel  and  the  door  close  after  them,  while  she  remaiced 
alone,  as  it  were,  an  outcast  from  God's  holy  temple.  Sink- 
ing  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  she  was  overpowered  by  her  feel- 
ings. The  tears  course  I  down  her  cheeks,  and  her  soul  became 
the  theatre  of  the  most  conflicting  emotions.  Mother  Seton, 
on  returning  from  the  church,  finding  her  in  this  state  of  de 


MRS     E.    A.    8ETON.  246 

jection,  inquired  the  cause  of  her  distress.  At  first  no  replj 
was  given;  but,  on  being  pressed  to  explain  her  grief,  fihe 
exclaimed,  "  Why,  oh  why  cannot  I  go  into  the  church  with 
you  all?"  "And  why  not,"  replied  Mother  Seton,  "if  you 
wish  it?  If  you  cannot  perceive  the  sweetness  of  His  pre- 
sence as  we  do,  at  least  you  might  say  your  prayers."  Re- 
joiced by  this  encouraging  answer,  she  ever  after  accompanied 
her  friends  to  the  chapel,  and  was  a  pattern  of  recollection 
and  devotion.  She  often  remarked,  speaking  of  the  moment 
of  the  elevation,  that  "  she  thought  she  could  not  feel  a  more 
awful  impression  if  our  adored  Lord  was  really  before  her 
on  his  clouds  of  majesty."  At  length,  on  the  feast  of  St. 
Mary  Magdalen,  knowing  that  the  divine  sacrifice  was  offered 
for  her  both  in  Baltimore  and  at  the  Mountain,  and  seeing 
her  sister  Cecilia,  Mother  Seton  and  her  daughter  Annum, 
all  before  her  at  the  heavenly  banquet,  her  heart  was  over- 
powered; yet  it  struggled  on  in  the  conflict  between  nature 
and  grace  until,  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock  at  night, 
"stealing  up  to  the  church  by  the  light  of  a  full  moon,  in 
deepest  silence,  her  arms  crossed  upon  her  breast,  and  the 
moon's  reflection  full  on  her  pale  but  celestial  countenance, 
I  saw,"  says  Mother  Seton,  who  describes  the  circumstance, 
"  the  falling  tears  of  love  and  adoration,  while  we  said,  first 
the  Miserere  and  then  the  Te  Deum,  which  from  her  child- 
hood had  been  our  family  prayers.  Descending  the  moun- 
tain, she  burst  forth  the  full  heart : — 'It  is  done,  my  sister;  1 
am  a  Catholic :  the  cross  of  our  dearest  Lord  is  the  desire 
of  my  soul :  I  will  never  rest  till  he  is  mine.' "  Mother 
Seton,  well  aware  of  what  she  would  be  compelled  to  endure 
on  her  return,  (for  she  had  formed  an  engagement  that 
made  a  return  obligatory,)  represented  to  her  the  conse- 
quences of  the  step  she  meditated,  in  order  to  prepare  her 
heart  for  a  full  and  perfect  sacrifice.  "  Yes,"  she  replied, 
"1  have  examined  all  this  in  my  own  mind.  I  have 


246 

weighed  well  the  consequences;  aud  the  engagement  I  have 
made  I  will  keep,  if,  as  a  Catholic,  I  ain  received  by  those 
dear  friends  to  whom  I  am  sincerely  attached;  but  I  cannot 
remain  a  Protestant;  and  if,  as  a  Catholic,  I  am  rejected 
even  by  this  dear  one,  (showing  the  miniature  of  him  whom 
she  had  promised  to  marry,)  I  MUST  SAVE  MY  SOUL." 

If  nothing  more  of  interest  had  occurred  luring  Mothei 
Seton's  brief  sojourn  on  the  Mount  than  this  happy  change 
in  the  religious  sentiments  of  her  beloved  relative,  this 
would  have  been  amply  sufficient  to  render  it  an  ever  memo- 
rable period.  She  remained  there  only  till  the  end  of  July; 
but,  in  the  few  weeks  that  she  passed  in  that  holy  and  se- 
cluded spot,  a  triumph  of  grace  had  been  achieved  which 
afforded  her  another  source  of  abundant  consolation  amid 
the  trials  to  which  her  faith  had  subjected  her. 


BOOK  VH. 

Mother  Seton  and  her  companions  remove  to  St.  Joseph's  Valley — The 
conventual  house — Elements  of  the  sisterhood — Design  of  the  institute 
— IU  rules — First  retreat — Counsels  of  the  Superior — Discipline  en- 
forced— Employment  of  the  sisters — Privations — Miss  Harriet  Seton — 
Her  fervent  piety  and  death — Sympathy  for  Mother  Seton — The  com- 
munity move  to  a  new  building —School  commenced — Illness  and 
death  of  Cecilia  Seton — Condition  of  the  institution — Visit  of  Bishop 
Cheverus — Rev.  John  B.  David — Second  retreat — Correspondence  be- 
tween Mother  Seton  and  Mr.  Filicchi — Her  gratitude — Efforts  for  the 
permanency  of  the  house. 

WHILE  Mother  Seton  was  enjoying  the  hospitality  of  Rev. 
Mr.  Dubois  in  the  little  cot  above  the  seminary,  the  house 
on  the  newly -purchased  property,  destined  for  St.  Joseph's 


MRS     E.    A.    8 ETON.  247 

community,  had  undergone  the  necessary  repairs  to  make  it 
habitable.  The  arrangements  having  been  completed,  she 
removed  thither  on  the  30th  of  July,  accompanied  by  her 
three  daughters,  her  two  sisters-in-law,  and  three  members 
of  her  community,  two  of  whom  were  from  the  immediate 
neighborhood.  On  the  same  day,  the  other  portion  of  the 
sisterhood  who  had  been  left  in  Baltimore  started  for  Em- 
mettsburg,  agreeably  to  the  directions  of  Mother  Seton. 
The  travelling  party  consisted  of  nine  persons,  among  whom 
were  her  two  sons;  and  they  performed  the  journey  in  a 
wagon,  which,  with  the  quantity  of  furniture  and  baggage 
it  contained,  afforded  no  great  convenience  as  a  mode  of  con- 
veyance; but  the  anticipation  of  their  happy  home  in  St. 
Joseph's  Valley  awakened  among  the  sisters  a  lively  joy, 
which  was  equally  shared  by  their  companions.  On  the 
feast  of  St.  Ignatius,  July  31,  they  reached  Eramettsburg, 
and  were  received  with  a  most  affectionate  welcome  by 
Mother  Seton  and  those  around  her  in  the  little  dwelling 
where  the  contemplated  society  was  to  continue  its  humble 
beginnings.  To  any  but  those  who  had  entered  upon  a  life 
of  sacrifice  and  penance  for  God's  sake,  the  community- 
house  would  have  appeared  insupportable.  It  was  a  small 
tenement,  as  we  have  already  stated,  consisting  of  one  story 
and  a  garret,  having  only  two  rooms  on  each  floor.  Here 
were  crowded  together  sixteen  persons,  many  of  whom  had 
been  reared  amid  the  comforts  of  life,  and  all  of  whom  had 
been  better  situated  in  the  world :  but,  as  the  saintly  leader 
of  this  generous  band  of  women  afterward  observed,  the 
daily  offering  of  the  holy  sacrifice,  and  the  happiness  of 
possessing  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  in  a  little  closet  just  wide 
enough  to  hold  a  small  altar,  made  many  things  convenient 
which  otherwise  could  not  have  been  borne.  At  this  period 
the  sisters  were  ten  in  number,  including  Mother  Seton, 
who  could  not  have  been  aided  by  more  competent  subject* 


248  THE    LIFE    OF 

to  carry  out  the  design  which  she  then  contemplated.*  All 
were  full  of  zeal  for  the  new  undertaking,  and  animated  with  an 
ardent  desire  of  consecrating  themselves  to  God  in  the  ser- 
vice of  their  neighbor;  while  some  were  particularly  qualified 
by  their  education  for  the  mental  culture  of  youth,  and  others 
had  a  special  capacity  for  conducting  the  equally  important 
matters  of  the  household  department,  which  at  that  time 
imposed  no  small  degree  of  labor  upon  the  sisters.  Among 
them  also  were  those  whose  peculiar  attraction  was  to  cultivate 
the  interior  life,  while  others  evinced  a  more  marked  disposi- 
tion for  the  active  offices  of  charity.  Thus  did  Divine  Provi- 
dence, in  laying  the  foundations  of  an  institution  which  was  to 
combine  the  sanctification  and  perfection  of  its  members 
with  the  practice  of  the  most  exalted  and  diversified  charity 
toward  their  fellow-beings,  select  the  fittest  materials  for  the 
execution  of  his  design,  and  exhibit  in  the  rising  community 
every  variety  of  talent  and  virtue  that  could  place  it  on  a 
solid  footing.  But,  as  nothing  important,  either  in  spiritual 
or  temporal  matters,  can  be  accomplished  by  a  numerous 
society  without  the  observance  of  a  certain  order  in  their 
employments,  rules  were  adopted  for  the  community  until 
such  time  as  it  would  receive  a  more  permanent  organiza- 
tion. Mother  Seton  having  determined,  in  conjunction  with 
the  ecclesiastical  superiors,  to  form  the  institute  upon  that 
of  the  "Daughters  of  Charity,"  founded  by  St.  Vincent  of 
Paul,  in  France,  measures  were  immediately  taken  to  pro- 
cure the  constitution  and  rules  of  that  society;  and  it  was 
hoped  at  the  same  time  that  some  of  its  members  would  visit 
this  country,  in  order  to  aid  the  rising  community  of  St 


*  The  following  are  the  names  of  those  who  composed  the  sisterhood : — 
Mrs.  Eliza  A.  Seton,  Cecilia  O'Conway,  Maria  Burke,  Susan  Glossy,  Mar; 
Ann  Butler,  Rose  White,  Catharine  Mullen,  Saruh  Thompson,  Ellen 
Ihompson,  Cecilia  Seton. 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  249 

Joseph's  by  their  experience  and  example.*  Another  im- 
portant object  of  attention  was  the  erection  of  a  more  com- 
modious residence  for  the  sisters.  The  contracted  space  to 
which  they  were  confined  affording  no  conveniences  for  the 
different  exercises  of  the  house,  workmen  were  soon  employed 
to  put  up  a  log-building  of  sufficiently  ample  dimensions,  and 
every  effort  was  made  to  accomplish  the  undertaking  with 
the  utmost  despatch.  In  the  mean  time  the  temporary  regu 
lations  of  the  sisterhood  were  observed  with  as  much  exacti- 
tude as  practicable  under  the  circumstances.  The  sisters 
were  directed  to  rise  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and,  after 
vocal  and  mental  prayer  until  half-past  six,  they  assisted  at 
the  holy  sacrifice  of  mass,  reciting  the  first  part  of  the  Ro- 
sary on  their  way  to  the  chapel  and  the  second  on  return- 
ing. After  breakfast,  at  nine  o'clock  they  made  an  act  of 
adoration  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  and  attended  to  various  em- 
ployments until  a  quarter  before  twelve,  when  they  devoted 
a  few  moments  to  examination  of  conscience,  adoration,  and 
reading  of  the  New  Testament.  During  dinner  one  of  the 
community  read  a  portion  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  After  the 
recreation  at  two  o'clock  there  was  a  reading  from  the  Fol- 
lowing of  Christ,  an  adoration,  and  work  until  five;  then 
visit  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  recitation  of  the  third 
part  of  the  Rosary.  At  supper  the  Spiritual  Combat  was 
read.  After  the  recreation,  at  half-past  eight  o'clock,  there 
was  a  spiritual  reading,  followed  by  prayers,  when  the  com- 
munity retired.  These  rules,  while  they  contributed  to  the 
order  and  regularity  of  the  house,  presented  to  the  sisters 
abundant  means  of  sanctification.  In  order  to  inspire  them 
with  a  lofty  estimate  of  their  holy  vocation  and  with  zeal  in 
the  performance  of  their  duties,  a  spiritual  retreat — the  first  of 

*  The  Rt.  Rev.  Benedict  J.  Flaget,  Bishop  elect  of  Bardstown,  who 
was  then  about  to  embark  for  France,  was  commissioned  to  obtain  th« 
rules  of  St.  Vincent. 


250  THE     LIFE    OF 

the  community — was  opened  on  the  10th  of  August  by  the 
superior,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubourg,  who  in  his  daily  instruc- 
tions enforced  the  great  truths  of  religion  and  the  motives 
of  Christian  perfection,  in  that  eloquent  and  impressive 
manner  for  which  he  was  distinguished. 

Besides  the  daily  course  of  exercises  prescribed  to  the 
sisters,  they  were  directed  to  employ  themselves  in  office* 
of  charity,  in  the  corporal  and  spiritual  works  of  mercy,  ac- 
cording to  the  opportunities  which  Providence  would  supply. 
Among  their  spiritual  duties,  mental  prayer  was  to  be  con- 
sidered as  holding  the  first  rank,  and  the  sisters  were  ex- 
horted to  perfect  themselves  as  far  as  they  could,  with  the 
help  of  divine  grace,  in  this  holy  art  of  conversing  with  God ; 
remembering  that  recollection  and  disengagement  are  the 
two  principal  dispositions  required  in  those  who  wish  to 
practise  it  successfully.  After  meditation,  spiritual  reading 
and  examination  of  conscience  were  deemed  of  the  greatest 
importance.  Besides  the  reading  in  common,  the  sisters 
were  directed  to  read  something  also  in  private,  and  to  meet 
once  a  week  for  a  conference  on  spiritual  matters.  In  re- 
gard to  the  reception  of  holy  communion,  the  superior 
makes  the  following  judicious  remarks,  in  a  letter  to  Mother 
Seton,  September  13, 1809 : — "I  have  often  reflected  oil 
the  danger  of  frequent  regular  communions  in  a  community. 
That  danger  must  strike  you  as  it  does  me.  Repeat  then 
very  often  to  our  daughters  that  the  rule  does  not  prescribe 
any  number  of  communions  in  the  week,  but  only  restrict* 
them  to  three,  leaving  it  to  the  prudence  of  the  director  to 
permit  whom  he  thinks  fit  to  approach  so  frequently,  or 
render  communions  more  rare  with  certain  individuals. 
Nothing  should  so  often  be  inculcated  as  the  dispositions 
necessary  for  very  frequent  communion,  and  the  assurance 
that  the  superior  will  never  judge  of  the  merits  of  a  sister 
from  her  approaching  oftener  or  more  seldom,  but  from  the 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  251 

fruit  she  derives  from  it.  The  extraordinary  fourth  com- 
munion in  the  week  should  be  limited  to  the  feasts  of  OUT 
Saviour  and  Blessed  Lady,  and  three  or  four  of  the  patron?, 
such  as  St  Joseph,  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  St.  Aloysius,  and 
St.  Francis  de  Sales.  This  limitation  will  set  a  greater 
value  on  that  favor  and  excite  a  greater  devotion  on  those 
days."  In  the  same  communication  Mr.  Dubourg  expresses 
his  great  satisfaction  in  hearing  that  a  "  generous  competi- 
tion to  please  God  in  their  superiors  reigned  among  all  the 
sisters." 

Charity,  the  queen  of  virtues,  reigned  supreme  in  thia 
favored  spot.  All  seemed  united  by  one  common  aspiration, 
and  aided  each  other  in  fulfilling  the  duties  of  their  voca 
tion.  The  sisters  found  ample  employment  in  their  spiritual 
and  domestic  affairs,  in  the  instruction  of  youth  and  the 
care  of  the  sick.  The  scholastic  exercises  demanded  as  yet 
but  a  small  portion  of  their  time,  as  the  narrow  space  to  which 
they  were  confined  rendered  it  impossible  to  conduct  a 
school,  properly  so  called.  The  only  class  held  at  this  time 
consisted  of  the  two  boarders  who  had  followed  Mother 
Seton  from  Baltimore,  and  her  three  daughters.  But,  inde- 
pendently of  this,  the  sisters  found  sufficient  scope  for  the 
exercise  of  their  industry  in  the  variety  of  domestic  employ- 
ments which  a  community  necessarily  presents,  while  their 
charity  was  called  into  requisition  by  several  families  in  the 
vicinity  that  were  afflicted  with  sickness.  Even  when  her 
own  house  was  filled  with  patients  suffering  from  the  fall 
fever,  the  zeal  and  charity  of  Mother  Seton  did  not  with- 
hold from  others  the  valuable  services  of  her  spiritual  daugh- 
ters. The  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  chaplain  of  the  sisterhood,  cele- 
brated mass  every  day  in  its  humble  chapel;  and  on  Sun- 
days, after  the  early  service  at  St.  Joseph's,  he  officiated 
either  in  the  village  church  or  that  on  the  mountain.  It 
was  customary  for  the  sisters  to  attend  this  late  service, — a 


252  THE    LIFE    OF 

circumstance  which  contributed  much  to  the  honor  of  reli 
gion,  by  the  edifying  example  which  they  displayed  on  theii 
way  to  the  church,  reciting  a  part  of  the  Rosary,  and  in  the 
holy  place  assisting  with  piety  and  recollection  at  the  divine 
office.  They  also  rendered  important  assistance  on  such 
occasions,  in  decorating  the  sanctuary  of  religion  and  per- 
forming the  duties  of  the  choir.  But  there  was  another  cir- 
cumstance connected  with  their  Sunday  visits  to  the  moun- 
tain, which  deserves  to  be  specially  recorded.  After  the 
morning  ceremony,  they  and  the  young  ladies  under  their 
charge  would  assemble  at  a  place  called  the  "  Grotto,"  whose 
associations  are  sacred  in  the  recollection  of  all  who  ever 
frequented  that  interesting  spot.  The  grotto  was  a  roman 
tic  part  of  the  mountain,  a  little  above  the  seminary,  where 
nature  displayed  itself  in  all  its  rude  and  picturesque  beauty. 
Huge  rocks,  overgrown  with  moss,  and  projecting  over  a 
ravine  where  a  crystal  stream  gurgled  down  the  hill  in  the 
midst  of  dense  foliage  and  wild  flowers  of  various  hues, — 
such  were  the  attractions  that  had  made  it  a  favorite  resort. 
Here,  too,  the  hind  of  piety  had  planted  the  cross — the  sym- 
bol of  our  redemption, — and  erected  the  image  of  her  who  is 
justly  styled  the  Help  of  Christians.  Here  would  Mother 
Seton,  before  taking  the  simple  repast  with  her  little  band, 
invoke  the  divine  blessing,  by  reciting  the  "canticle  of  the 
three  children;"  and  none  that  ever  witnessed  it  could  ever 
forget  the  tones  of  that  voice  and  the  fervor  of  that  heart 
which,  in  the  midst  of  the  wild  scenery  of  nature,  called 
upon  all  creatures  to  bless  and  magnify  their  Creator. 

Christian  mortification  was  a  characteristic  feature  of  tlu 
sisterhood ;  and,  from  the  description  which  Mother  Sel,m 
has  given  of  it,  we  may  infer  that  its  inmates  had  begun  in 
earnest  to  labor  at  the  work  of  their  sanctification.  "So 
earnest  was  every  heart,"  she  says,  "that  carrot-coffee,  salt 
pork;  and  buttermilk,  seemed  yet  too  good  a  living."  One 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  253 

*f  the  sisters  who  had  lived  in  ease  before  her  retirement 
from  the  world  is  thus  spoken  of  in  a  letter  written  from  St. 
Joseph's  at  this  time : — "  She  is  making  fine  progress  in  the 
paths  of  penance,  and  drinks  carrot-coffee  with  as  good  a 
grace  as  if  she  had  been  used  to  mortification  all  her  life, 
and  takes  dry  bread  at  breakfast  as  if  it  was  really  her  choice. 
Besides,  her  eloquent  tongue  has  a  continual  embargo  on  it, 
except  in  recreation;  and  this  is  no  small  penance,  you  may 
suppose,  to  us  all."  The  contracted  residence  of  the  sisters 
not  allowing  them  to  conduct  a  school  which  would  afford  the 
means  of  support,  and  the  funds  of  the  house  being  entirely 
absorbed  by  the  purchase  and  improvement  of  the  property, 
the  revenue  of  the  institution  was  not  commensurate  with 
the  expenditure  required  for  so  numerous  a  family;  and, 
owing  to  these  circumstances,  the  community  were  at  first 
reduced  to  a  very  destitute  condition.  For  this  reason,  a 
beverage  was  manufactured  from  carrots,  to  supply  the  place 
of  coffee,  and  was  sweetened  with  molasses.  The  bread 
used  by  the  sisters  was  mad,e  of  rye,  and  of  the  coarsest  de- 
scription. "For  many  months,"  writes  one  of  the  com- 
munity, "we  were  so  reduced  that  we  often  did  not  know 
where  the  next  day's  meal  would  come  from."  On  Christ- 
mas-day they  considered  themselves  fortunate  in  having 
some  smoked  herrings  for  their  dinner  and  a  spoonful  of  mo- 
lasses for  each.  But  these  privations,  far  from  being  unac- 
ceptable to  the  sisters,  were  welcomed  as  marks  of  the  divine 
protection;  and  they  vied  with  each  other  in  making  light 
of  the  inconveniences  they  had  to  suffer.  Mother  Scton, 
notwithstanding  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered,  seemed 
to  be  the  more  rejoiced  that  the  Son  of  God  found  her  com- 
munity worthy  of  sharing  his  cross.  Often,  in  a  kind  of 
transport,  she  would  exclaim,  her  arms  extended  toward 
heaven,  "  Oh,  my  sisters !  let  us  love  him :  let  us  ever  be  ready 
for  his  holy  will.  He  is  our  father.  Oh,  when  we  shall  be 

22 


254  TUB     LIFE     OP 

in  our  dear  eternity,  then  we  will  know  the  value  of  suf- 
fering here  below !"  She  never  ceased  to  inculcate  to  her 
spiritual  daughters  the  duty  of  sanctifying  their  souls,  and 
thus  preparing  themselves  for  any  good  work  in  which  it 
would  please  God  to  employ  them;  but,  knowing  well  that 
they  could  become  worthy  instruments  of  the  divine  good- 
ness only  by  an  entire  disengagement  from  themselves  and 
the  world,  she  endeavored,  both  by  word  and  example,  to  in- 
spire them  with  a  sincere  love  for  the  cross  of  Christ.  Nor 
were  opportunities  wanting  for  the  generous  practice  of  self- 
denial,  as  the  preceding  narrative  shows  and  as  will  appear 
still  more  from  the  sequel. 

But,  in  the  midst  of  many  trials,  the  community  of  St. 
Joseph's  presented  abundant  sources  of  consolation,  among 
which  the  admission  of  Miss  Harriet  Seton  into  the  Catho- 
lic Church  is  deserving  of  particular  notice.  We  have  seen 
that  this  young  lady,  convinced  of  the  truth,  foimed  the 
generous  resolution  of  embracing  it,  despite  the  formidable 
difficulties  which  such  a  step  would  naturally  create  on  the 
part  of  her  relatives  and  friends  abroad.  From  the  mo- 
ment she  resolved  upon  it,  her  whole  aim  was  to  prepare 
herself  for  a  worthy  reception  of  the  sacraments.  Every 
means  of  promoting  her  spiritual  welfare  was  set  to  profit. 
She  joined  the  sisters  of  St.  Joseph's  in  all  their  exercises 
with  a  most  cheerful  grace,  and  united  with  them  in  the 
most  common  labors,  bearing  the  hardships  of  their  living 
as  if  she  had  always  been  accustomed  to  it.  But,  aa  the 
happy  day  approached  on  which  she  was  to  seal  her  conse- 
cration to  the  service  of  God  by  a  first  union  with  Jesus 
Christ  in  the  sacrament  of  his  love,  her  soul  was  filled 
with  holy  raptures,  and  the  joy  which  she  felt  displayed 
itself  visibly  in  her  ardent  zeal  to  adorn  the  altar  for  that 
blessed  occasion.  It  was  the  festival  of  Our  Lady  of  M  ercy, — 
the  24th  of  September, — a  day  of  heavenly  delight  to  fcei 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  255 

and  of  lively  joy  to  the  whole  community,  but  particularly 
to  Mother  Seton.  The  following  sentiments,  which  she 
penned  on  the  same  day,  will  better  illustrate  the  state  of 
her  mind  than  any  words  of  description.  "  Is  it  so,  0  my 
Jesus  !  source  of  all  delight  ?  Have  I  this  day  received  you 
into  my  heart  ? — a  thought  too  ecstatic  ;  a  thought  replete 
with  the  purest,  the  most  celestial  happiness  !  Is  it  so  ? 
JVsus,  my  all,  has  condescended  to  enter  my  unworthy  breast, 
to  converse  with  me,  to  ^all  me  his  own  !  He  will  no  longer 
permit  me  to  be  a  stray  sheep;  he  has  taken  me  on  his 
shoulders,  and  carried  me  home  to  repose  in  peace  on  his 
divine  bosom.  Eternal  praises  and  thanksgivings  would 
come  short  of  what  I  would  wish  to  render  to  him  for  all 
his  mercies  in  calling  me  to  his  holy  Catholic  Church,  the 
only  true  faith.  Oh,  may  this  day  of  heavenly  happiness  be 
marked  in  heaven, — this  day  on  which  my  fervent  and  firm 
resolutions  to  remain  until  death  therein  were  sealed  and 
signed  by  his  precious  body  and  blood !  May  I  ever  find  in 
his  adorable  sacrament  the  same  ardent  desire,  the  same 
fervent  wish,  to  be  for  eternity  united  to  Jesus!" 

To  consolidate  this  happiness  by  setting  to  profit  the 
opportunities  which  she  enjoyed  in  the  solitude  of  St.  Jo- 
seph's Valley,  she  solicited  from  her  friends  in  New  York  a 
further  leave  of  absence  than  had  at  first  been  obtained 
Her  request,  however,  not  being  granted,  she  took  occasion 
to  urge  it  still  more  forcibly  upon  their  favorable  considera- 
tion. In  a  letter  to  a  married  sister,  whom  she  viewed  in 
the  light  of  a  mother,  she  says,  "Your  long-expected  letter, 
my  beloved  mother,  has  at  length  arrived,  but,  with  it,  not, 
as  I  had  fondly  anticipated,  a  compliance  with  the  wish  I 
had  recently  expressed, — an  intention,  I  thought,  very  far 
from  displeasing  or  giving  you  the  smallest  pain,  and  one 
which,  from  the  very  particular  and  critical  situation  of  oui 
dear  Cecilia's  health,  might  naturally  be  expected.  But, 


256  THE    LIFE    OF 

with  my  usual  sincerity  on  all  occasions  with  you,  I  m  «#, 
and  feel  it  my  most  sacred  duty  to  tell  you  that,  sin?e  my 
absence  from  Greenhill,*  that  revolution  of  sentiment  you 
in  all  probability  feared — a  fear  of  which  no  part  of  the 
family,  I  believe,  were  divested  at  the  time  of  my  leaving  home 
— has  already  taken  place.  I  have  united  myself  to  Cecilia 
by  another  tie,  stronger  that  any  that  ever  linked  out 
hearts  before, — the  sacred  tie  of  religion.  A  union  of  senti- 
ment on  this  point,  I  feel  very  confident,  will  meet  with 
many  reproaches  from  all  those  so  dear  to  my  heart  j  but, 
after  once  experiencing  the  full  conviction  of  having  acted, 
not,  as  many  may  think,  from  the  thoughtless  caprice  of  the 
moment  or  under  the  influence  of  persuasion,  but  in  con- 
formity to  the  irresistible  conviction  of  that  monitor  within 
which  forcibly  led  me  to  the  step  I  have  taken,  all  that 
can  or  does  follow  will  be  insufficient  to  shake  my  firm  re- 
solution to  adhere  to  it.  My  motives  are  known  to  God 
alone,  in  whose  power  only  it  is  to  develop  the  secret  inten- 
tions of  the  heart.  Under  the  existing  causes,  then,  I  think, 
combining  all  circumstances,  you  will  consent  to  gratify  my 
wish  of  remaining  where  I  am.  My  affection  and  attach- 
ment for  you  can  end  but  with  my  life.  A  happier  day 
may  come,  when  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  disclosing 
the  extent  of  it."  She  then  alludes  to  her  matrimonial  en- 
gagement with  Dr.  Barclay  Bayley,  and  expresses  her  de- 
termination to  fulfil  it,  provided  his  sentiments  toward  her 
be  not  altered  by  her  conversion  to  Catholicity.  "  Should 
guch  a  change,  however,  take  place,  I  shall  endeavor,"  she 
Bays,  "  to  seek  my  peace  and  happiness  where  I  cannot  be 
disappointed." 

We  have  placed  this  letter  before  the  reader  to  show  the 
invincible  courage  with  which  Miss  Seton  nerved  herself 

*  The  residence  of  her  brother-in-law's  family. 


MRS.    E.   A.    8ETON.  257 

•gainst  every  opposition  to  the  step  she  had  taken.  Home 
and  Kindred,  the  favor  of  friends,  the  pleasures  of  the  world, — 
all  were  accounted  as  nothing,  so  far  as  they  conflicted  with 
the  one  thing  necessary — the  salvation  of  her  soul.  She 
would  rather  be  denounced  in  the  company  of  true  believers 
and  endure  the  hardships  and  privations  which  the  humble 
cot  of  St.  Joseph's  then  imposed,  than,  at  the  sacrifice  of  her 
interior  peace,  shine  in  the  gay  circles  of  the  world  or  taste 
of  its  fascinating  but  delusive  joys.  In  this  generous  re- 
solve she  was  doubly  confirmed  by  the  grace  of  that  invigor- 
ating sacrament  in  which  the  Holy  Ghost  with  his  manifold 
gifts  descends  into  the  Christian  soul.  This  happiness  she 
enjoyed  on  the  20th  of  October,  when  Bishop  Carroll  honored 
St.  Joseph's  sisterhood  with  a  first  visit  and  administered 
the  holy  rite  of  confirmation.  Additional  light  and  energy 
could  not  have  been  more  opportunely  imparted  to  this 
young  and  fervent  convert ;  for  no  sooner  did  the  intelli- 
gence of  her  union  with  the  Catholic  Church  reach  New 
York  than  she  became  an  object  of  censure  and  persecution, 
while  no  small  share  of  the  dreadful  mischief  was  attributed 
to  the  "  siren  voice"  of  Mother  Seton.  The  reproachful 
letters  of  her  friends  and  the  learned  ones  of  controvertists 
were  darted  upon  her ;  but,  equally  regardless  of  the  impu- 
tations cast  upon  her  sincerity  and  upon  her  wisdom,  she 
only  looked  forward  to  the  "supernal  prize,"  striving,  by  a 
frequent  approach  of  the  sacraments  and  by  exercising  every 
mark  of  faithful  souls,  to  prepare  herself  for  the  rewards  of 
eternal  life.  She  soon  became  ripe  for  heaven.  During  the 
autumn  and  winter  of  1809,  the  sisterhood  of  St.  Joseph's 
was  severely  tried  by  sickness  as  well  as  privation, — an  event 
which  the  cautious  observer  easily  anticipated.  Bishop  Car- 
roll, writing  to  Mother  Seton  in  the  beginning  of  November, 
remarks : — "  I  cannot  reflect  with  patience  on  your  situation 

and  that  of  your  dear  sisters  for  this  winter :  for  Mr.  Du- 
22«  B 


258  THE    LIFE    OF 

bourg  says  you  cannot  go  into  your  new  house  till  the  new 
year,  and  surely  that  is  no  time  to  remove.  I  hope  and 
trust  that,  contrary  to  the  appearance  of  your  open  and  in- 
convenient house,  you  may  not  any  of  you  get  your  deaths." 
Whether  this  circumstance  contributed  or  not  to  the  genera- 
tion of  disease,  the  sisterhood  was  for  several  months  an 
infirmary.  Among  the  patients  was  Mother  Seton's  eldest 
son,  who,  having  been  seized  with  a  nervous  fever,  was  sent 
to  St.  Joseph's,  to  be  nursed  under  the  immediate  eye  of 
his  loving  parent.  But,  with  the  scant  accommodations  of 
the  house,  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  provide  the  suffering 
boy  with  the  conveniences  which  his  situation  required. 
Afterward  he  became  so  ill  that  the  last  rites  of  religion  were 
administered  to  dispose  him  for  a  happy  death.  His  decease 
being  momentarily  expected,  the  sisters  were  already  pre- 
paring for  the  issue  of  such  an  event,  and  his  aunt  Harriet 
assisted  in  arranging  the  shroud  :  but  it  pleased  God  to  re- 
store the  health  of  the  child,  and  the  shroud  destined  for 
him  shortly  after  enclosed  the  earthly  remains  of  her  who 
had  made  it.  While  attending  with  unremitting  care  at  the 
bedside  of  her  invalid  sister  Cecilia,  she  was  seized  with  a 
violent  fever  which  soon  brought  her  to  the  verge  of  the 
grave.  Such  were  the  amiable  qualities  and  shining  virtues 
of  Miss  Harriet  Seton,  that  she  had  become  endeared  to  every 
member  of  the  community;  but  on  the  bed  of  sickness  her 
eminent  piety  shone  forth  with  a  lustre  which  excited  the 
admiration  of  all  around  her.  When  fever  parched  her 
burning  lips,  when  the  throbbings  of  the  temple  indicated 
the  intense  sufferings  of  the  head,  when  insensible  as  it  were 
to  every  thing  else,  speak  but  of  God,  of  heaven,  of  eternity, 
and  her  sinking  faculties  seemed  to  revive.  To  the  last  sh« 
manifested  a  great  confidence  in  the  intercession  of  Mary, 
in  whose  honor  she  wore  the  holy  scapular :  but  her  devotion 
to  the  blessed  sacrament  of  the  altar  was  of  the  most  livelj 


MRS.   E.   A.    SETON.  259 

*nd  ardent  description.  Since  her  first  communion  she  had 
received  weekly,  and  sometimes  oftener,  this  bread  of  an- 
gels, and  during  her  sickness  it  was  a  source  of  unspeakable 
joy  to  her  heart.  Even  in  the  moments  of  delirium  produced 
by  inflammation  of  the  brain,  all  her  thoughts  seemed  to  be 
engrossed  by  that  divine  object ;  and  the  last  sign  of  remain- 
ing life  and  reason  that  she  exhibited  was  an  effort  to  join 
the  sisters  in  a  hymn  at  the  benediction.  She  then  sank 
into  a  stupor,  from  which  she  passed  to  the  sleep  of  death  on 
the  22d  of  December.  The  following  day  her  precious  re- 
mains were  conveyed,  amid  the  tears  and  prayers  of  her 
companions,  to  the  silent  woods,  and  deposited  in  the  very 
spot  which  she  herself  had  chosen.  During  the  preceding 
summer,  Mother  Seton  had  one  day  invited  the  sisters  to 
take  a  walk  and  select  a  place  for  a  cemetery.  Miss  Har- 
riet Seton  accompanied  them.  Some  designated  one  spot, 
some  another ;  but  the  attention  of  Miss  Seton  was  arrested 
by  a  large  oak-tree  before  her,  and,  having  an  apple  in  her 
hand,  she  playfully  threw  it  against  the  tree,  saying,  in  a  loud 
tone  of  voice,  "  This  is  my  spot."  Her  words  were  predict- 
ive; in  four  months  she  reposed  there,  the  "  first-fruits  of 
them  who  sleep"  in  St.  Joseph's  Valley. 

Though  the  decease  of  her  cherished  sister  was  a  severe 
trial  to  Mother  Seton,  she  derived  abundant  consolation 
from  her  lively  faith,  which  viewed  the  afflictions  dispensed 
by  the  hand  of  God  as  evidences  of  his  special  favor  and  pro- 
tection. She  also  found,  in  the  particular  interest  manifested 
for  her  and  those  around  her  by  the  most  pious  and  respect- 
able ecclesiastics  in  the  country,  a  support  to  her  fortitude 
and  increased  encouragement  to  persevere  in  the  paths  of 
Christian  perfection.  "  As  you  are  happy  enough,"  writes 
the  Rev.  Anthony  Kohlman,  then  in  New  York,  "  to  take 
your  many  trials  in  that  light  in  which  the  saints  considered 
them,  as  great  favors  of  your  divine  Bridegroom, — as,  instead 


260  THE     LIFE    OF 

of  wavering  at  these  repeated  strokes,  you  feel  your  courage 
increased,  your  confidence  strengthened,  and  your  love  tc 
God  more  and  more  inflamed, — we  have  great  reason  to  ad- 
mire and  praise  the  amiable  conduct  of  the  Almighty,  who, 
as  holy  Job  says,  tries  his  faithful  servants  so  admirably. 
In  the  eyes  of  the  unwise  they  seem  to  be  afflicted  unto 
death,  while  their  souls  are  in  peace  and  abounding  with 
consolation.  If  the  sudden  departure  of  Harriet  filled  us 
with  grief,  my  joy,  I  must  confess,  was  no  less  in  considering 
that  happy  state  of  fervor  and  love  in  which  Jesus  called 
this  his  beloved  spouse  to  his  eternal  embraces."  January 
17,  1810.  "What  a  happy  death!"  exclaims  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Cheverus,  alluding  to  the  same  event :  "  may  my  last  end 
be  like  hers  !  Our  penance  is  to  be  appreciated  rather  by 
its  fervor  than  by  the  length  of  time.  She  who  '  loved  much' 
became  in  a  moment  a  saint  and  the  friend  of  Jesus.  ...  1 
look  upon  your  trials,  difficulties,  &c.  as  the  stamp  of  divine 
favor  and  protection  upon  your  establishment.  Remember 
St.  Theresa,  St.  Frances  Chantal,  &c.  Like  them,  I  hope 
you  will  become  saints,  and  the  mothers  of  many  saints." 
January  24,  1810.  Mother  Seton  received  letters  of  a 
similar  import  from  Bishop  Carroll  and  other  members  of 
the  clergy ;  but  that  of  Rev.  John  B.  David,  who  had  then 
become  officially  connected  with  the  sisterhood  in  the  capa- 
city of  ecclesiastical  superior,  deserves  special  notice,  as  well 
on  this  account  as  for  the  solid  and  excellent  advice  which 
it  contains.  "  Crosses,  privations,  and  afflictions,  seem  to  be 
the  lot  which  our  blessed  Lord  has  apportioned  for  your  soul. 
Courage,  my  dear  mother!  these  are  the  precious  jewels 
with  which  the  Divine  Spouse  is  pleased  to  adorn  his  bride. 
They  are  the  most  valuable  earnest  of  his  love  and  the 
sweet  pledges  of  his  future  liberalities.  Our  dear  Harriet 
is  not  dead,  but  lives  to  her  God.  In  lamenting  her  loss  for 
u,  I  cannot  forbear  looking  upon  her  death  as  a  happy 


MRS.    £.    A.    6ETON.  261 

event  for  herself.  From  what  storms  and  dangers  us  she  hot 
delivered  !  Perhaps  God  foresaw  that,  if  she  had  lived,  the 
persecutions  and  allurements  of  a  wicked  world  would  have 
shaken  her  constancy  and  caused  her  to  forsake  her  good 
resolutions.  Let  us  adore  the  unsearchable,  but  always  wise 
and  merciful,  ways  of  Providence;  and  let  us  more  than  evei 
convince  ourselves  that  Jesus  wishes  to  be  the  sole  pos- 
sessor of  our  hearts,  and  would  have  his  spouses  above  all  others 
to  abandon  themselves  with  perfect  resignation  into  his 
hands,  casting  away  all  anxious  cares,  leaving  entirely  to 
him  the  choice  of  the  good  or  evils  that  are  to  befall  them, 
with  a  total  abnegation  of  their  own  interest  and  a  full  re- 
liance on  the  care  of  his  providence,  having  no  other  thought, 
in  troublesome  and  painful  encounters,  than  to  submit  lov- 
ingly to  whatever  God  will  be  pleased  to  ordain.  The  soul 
in  this  state  of  resignation  fears  neither  sickness  nor  poverty, 
desires  neither  health  nor  riches,  but  simply  applies  to 
the  service  of  her  Master,  according  to  this  word  of  our  Lord 
to  a  beloved  spouse  of  his :  '  Take  care  of  me  and  I  will  of 
thee.'  How  precious  are  the  fruits  of  this  resignation !  It 
makes  the  soul  the  dwelling  of  peace,  joy,  and  liberty,  which 
are  the  true  fruits  of  the  Divine  Spirit."  December  28, 
1809.  Such  were  the  excellent  maxims  which  Mother  Seton 
adopted  for  the  regulation  of  her  sentiments  and  actions. 
Submission  to  the  holy  will  of  God  was  constantly  on  her 
lips  and  in  her  heart;  and,  in  the  numerous  and  severe  trials 
which  she  had  to  contend  with,  she  found  perpetual  occa- 
lions  for  the  practice  and  cultivation  of  this  necessary  virtue. 
The  new  house  which  had  been  undertaken  for  the  more 
convenient  location  of  the  sisters  having  been  sufficiently 
advanced  to  allow  them  to  occupy  at  least  a  part  of  it,  they 
removed  thither  on  the  20th  of  February,  1810.  It  was  a 
log-building,  two  stories  high,  fronting  to  the  south,  and 
the  main  entrance  equidistant  from  the  two  end* 


262  THE    LIFE    OF 

At  the  eastern  extremity  a  small  kitchen  was  attached  to  it, 
and  on  the  west  was  another  addition  for  the  purpose  of  a 
sanctuary,  sacristy,  and  an  apartment  where  strangers  could 
assist  at  mass,  facing  one  end  of  the  sanctuary.  The  choir, 
where  the  community  heard  mass  and  performed  other  de- 
votions, was  immediately  in  front  of  the  altar,  and  by  means 
of  a  folding-door  could  be  united  with  or  separated  from  it 
as  the  occasion  required.  The  blessed  Sacrament  was  con- 
veyed from  its  former  locality  to  its  more  worthy  but 
humble  receptacle,  with  all  the  solemnity  which  circumstances 
permitted,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois  officiating,  and  the  sisters 
walking  in  procession,  with  hearts  joyfully  uplifted  to  God 
who  was  leading  them  another  step  in  their  way  to  useful- 
ness. The  newly-constructed  sanctuary  could  boast  of  no 
rich  decorations ;  but  there  was  a  beauty  of  virtue  and  a 
fragrance  of  devotion  that  adorned  its  precincts  and  made  it 
lovely  in  the  eyes  of  the  Almighty.  "  So  poor  was  the  little 
altar,"  says  a  cotemporary  witness,  "  that  its  chief  ornaments 
were  a  framed  portrait  of  our  dear  Redeemer,  which  Mother 
had  brought  with  her  from  New  York,  her  own  little  silver 
candlesticks,  some  wild  laurel,  paper  flowers,  &c. :  yet,  what 
a  happy,  happy  company,  far  from  the  busy,  bustling  scenes 
of  a  miserable,  faithless  world  !"  In  front  of  the  altar  were 
inscribed  those  significant  words  of  our  Saviour  : — "  This  ia 
my  command,  that  you  love  one  another."  The  sisters,  being 
now  provided  with  the  necessary  accommodations  for  the 
commencement  of  a  day-school,  opened  a  course  of  instruc- 
tions on  the  22d  of  February,  many  pupils  having  been  re- 
ceived from  the  village  and  surrounding  country.  In  the 
education  of  youth  they  were  directed  by  the  superiors  to 
aim  chiefly  at  the  inculcation  of  piety  and  sound  morals, 
though  secular  learning  was  not  to  be  neglected.  We  have 
Been  that  Mother  Seton  had  placed  her  community  in  a  spe- 
eial  manner  under  the  patronage  ot  St.  Joseph,  the  patror 


MRS.    E.   A.    SETON.  26J 

of  those  who  are  charged  with  the  care  and  instruction  of 
youth.  For  this  reason  she  desired  that,  in  commencing  the 
duties  of  the  sisterhood  in  the  new  residence,  the  more 
solemn  invocation  of  the  divine  blessing  upon  the  undertak- 
ing should  take  place  under  his  auspices ;  and  accordingly 
the  first  high  mass  chanted  in  the  large  chapel  was  celebrated 
>n  1  is  festival,  the  19th  of  March,  1810. 

But  her  attention  to  the  details  of  the  institution  was 
Boon  divided  by  the  increasing  illness  of  her  sister-in-law 
Cecilia,  whose  health  had  but  temporarily  improved  since 
her  arrival  in  the  vicinity  of  Emmettsburg.  This  heroic 
young  lady,  who  had  exhibited  in  her  conversion  a  piety, 
wisdom,  and  intrepidity  seldom  equalled  in  maturer  years, 
had  always  ardently  desired  to  embrace  a  life  of  religious 
seclusion,  and  when  Providence  afforded  her  an  opportunity 
of  joining  Mother  Seton,  she  was  determined  to  remain 
with  her,  expecting,  as  she  said,  "  not  a  life  of  ease  and 
pleasure,  but  a  life  of  penance  and  humiliation." 

Her  anticipations  were  fully  realized ;  for  the  poverty  of 
the  institution  to  which  she  had  attached  herself,  with  her 
continual  sufferings,  afforded  her  constant  occasions  for  the 
practice  of  Christian  self-denial.  The  following  sentiments 
which  she  wrote  in  several  letters  to  one  of  her  spiritual 
directors,  only  a  short  time  before  her  death,  will  exhibit  a 
true  picture  of  her  soul. 

"February  1,  1810. 

"  This  day,  my  dearest  father,  I  am  filled  with  the  idea 
that  I  shall  not  see  the  end  of  this  month.  They  tell  me  I 
am  recovering :  I  think  the  remainder  of  my  exile  will  be 
very  short, — blessed  be  God ! — yet,  strange  to  tell,  I  am 
melancholy  and  sad.  I  long  for  the  moment  when  this 
mortal  part  shall  be  dissolved,  and  the  soul  will  rest  in  the 
bosom  of  its  God.  Yet  I  fear  the  approaching  moment. 
Why  is  it  so?  Because  I  know  judgment  must  follow 


264  THE    LIFE    OV 

death  If  the  saints  themselves  so  mucli  feared  the  tribu- 
nal, what  must  I  do  ?  You  will  tell  me,  they  confided  in 
the  mercy  of  their  God.  Oh,  was  it  not  for  the  confidence 
with  which  my  Jesus  inspires  me,  what  would  become  of 
me  ?  Oftentimes  I  behold  nothing  but  darkness  and  gloom 
before  me ;  'tis  then  that  the  soul  clings  close  to  our  Adored 
— more  closely  than  ever." 

"March  1. 

"  The  month  of  February  past,  and  my  tottering  frame 
still  stands;  but  whence  this  change?  With  a  cheerful 
heart  I  feel  myself  every  day  get  weaker,  and  feel  happy 
in  the  idea  that  a  few  weeks  must  end  it  all  "\Vhat  now  is 
all  the  world  to  me  ?  it  vanishes  like  smoke.  Night  or  day, 
sunshine  or  rain — 'tis  all  one  to  me.  My  eyes  are  fixed  on 
the  eternal  day;  pain  has  become  my  rest,  and  my  nights 
never  more  sweetly  passed  than  when  restless  and  uneasy. 
Dearest  Lord  !  how  good  you  are  to  me ;  you  have  indeed 
heard  my  prayer — always  to  let  me  suffer  for  you,  that  so  1 
may  expiate  my  offences ;  and  when  the  hour  of  death  shall 
come  I  may  pass  immediately  from  this  world  into  thy  arms 
of  mercy.  Oh,  how  precious  now  is  every  hour  of  my 
time  !  Not  an  instant  shall  be  lost.  Every  thought,  word, 
and  action,  shall  tend  to  the  one  point.  And  how  ungrateful 
I  should  be  to  my  merciful  Creator  did  I  not  devote  to  him, 
to  the  uttermost  of  my  power,  the  short  remainder  of  my 
life,  which,  most  probably,  will  be  but  a  few  weeks  longer ! 

"  Since  the  last  accounts  to  my  dearest  Father,  the  soul 
has  tasted  more  peace  than  it  has  since  our  darling  Harriet 
has  gone.  Death  has  no  longer  a  frightful  appearance.  1 
can  now  meditate  on  it  with  the  greatest  composure ;  my 
daily  pains  I  feel  hourly  more  precious,  though  sometimes  1 
get  wearied,  and  even  wish  to  be  released  ;  yet  I  find,  in  mj 
severest  pains,  that  I  fervently  pray  our  Lord  to  give  me 
•till  more,  and  purify  and  prepare  me  for  himself.  I  can- 


ME8.    E.    A.    SETON.  265 

oot  help  thinking,  from  the  nature  of  my  complaint,  that  I 
am  fast  approaching  toward  the  end  of  my  exile ;  the  pil- 
grimage has  been  wearisome,  the  mountain  very  hard  to 
climb  these  few  months  past,  which  only  makes  me  long 
more  ardently  for  the  haven  of  rest.  But  shall  I  ever  reach 
that  port?  May  there  not  be  some  sins  yet  unexpiated? 
If  so,  [  trust  our  Jesus  will  shed  a  ray  of  his  divine  light 
in  my  unworthy  bosom.  Before  the  arrival  of  that  hour 
doubts  and  fears  will  arise ;  but  Jesus  speaks  peace  and 
comfort.  I  cannot  express  to  my  soul's  Father  my  longing 
desires  for  the  Holy  Communion.  I  receive  as  often  as 
the  sisters,  but  I  seem  to  desire  still  more ;  and  days  that 
I  do  not  receive  him  I  am  not  the  same  creature.  I  have 
much  more  comfort  in  my  communions  than  formerly. 
According  to  our  necessities  he  gives.  Death  and  eternity 
ever  before  me !  Why  is  it  so  ?  Because  thou,  dearest 
Lord,  givest  me  some  pain,  some  bodily  uneasiness,  to  re- 
mind me  of  the  slightness  of  that  thread  which  holds  my 
existence.  Was  it  always  so  ?  Once  you  saw  my  weakness, 
and  pitied  it.  You  have  made  me  see,  dear  Lord,  the  vanity 
of  all  human  things.  I  now  truly  feel  this  life  a  weary  pil- 
grimage, and  long  for  the  hour  when  my  mortal  part  shall 
be  dissolved  and  I  shall  be  at  rest.  Cut  and  crucify  this 
sinful  body  here;  here  let  it  pay  the  penalty  that  is  due; 
but  oh,  my  Jesus,  spare  me  hereafter  ! — at  the  hour  of  death 
comfort  and  receive  me  !" 

In  the  second  week  of  April,  by  the  recommendation  of 
the  physicians,  sister  Cecilia  Seton  was  conveyed  to  Balti- 
more by  Mother  Seton,  accompanied  by  her  eldest  daughter 
and  one  of  the  community.  It  was  thought  that  a  change 
of  air  and  better  opportunities  of  medical  advice  might 
prove  beneficial;  but,  toward  the  end  of  the  month,  she 
calmly  yielded  her  soul  into  the  hauds  of  God,  the  admira- 
tion of  all  who  knew  her,  for  the  many  brilliant  virtues  and 
23 


266  THE    LIFE    OP 

Amiable  qualities  which  she  possessed.  Her  remains  wert 
conducted  by  a  procession  of  the  clergy,  followed  by  • 
numerous  concourse  of  persons,  to  the  chapel  of  St.  Mary's 
Seminary,  where  a  solemn  mass  of  requiem  was  celebrated 
for  her  repose ;  and,  after  the  ceremony,  Mother  Seton,  with 
the  Rev  Mr.  Cloriviere  and  the  sister  who  had  accompanied 
her  to  Baltimore,  set  out  immediately  for  Emmettsburg,  to 
;onvey  the  body  of  her  beloved  relative  to  its  final  resting- 
place  in  St.  Joseph's  Valley.  It  was  deposited  in  that  lonely 
spot  on  the  30th  of  the  month.  If  nature  grieved  at  the 
loss  of  one  so  dearly  cherished,  faith  rejoiced  at  the  happy 
event.  The  death  of  her  two  sisters-in-law,  who  were  as 
the  dearer  part  of  Mother  Seton's  existence,  became  for  her 
a  source  of  holy  joy;  inasmuch  as  she  saw  them  sheltered 
from  many  dangers  that  would  have  been  unavoidable  in 
their  situation,  if  they  had  been  obliged  to  return  among 
their  kindred,  or  even  had  they  remained  with  her  to  pass 
through  the  trials  of  perseverance  to  which  they  would  have 
been  subjected.  She  thus  speaks  of  them  in  writing  to  a 
Protestant  friend  : — "  Dearest  Harriet  and  my  angel  Cecil 
sleep  in  the  wood  close  beside  me.  The  children,  and  many 
of  our  good  sisters,  to  whom  they  were  much  attached,  have 
planted  their  graves  with  wild-flowers,  and  the  little  en- 
closure which  contains  them  is  the  dearest  spot  to  me  on 
earth.  I  do  not  miss  them  half  as  much  as  you  would 
think,  as,  according  to  my  mad  notions,  it  seems  as  if  they 
are  always  around  me.  At  all  events,  separation  will  not  be 
long."  ' 

Vastly  different  were  the  sentiments  which  the  departure 
of  these  two  young  ladies  in  the  bloom  of  life  awakened 
among  some  of  their  anti-Catholic  friends.  For  them  it 
was  a  sore  vexation,  and,  in  consequence,  they  visited 
Mother  Seton  with  expressions  of  the  strongest  indigna- 
tion. According  to  them  she  was  "  the  pest  of  society,"  » 


MRS.    E.    A.    BETON.  267 

"hypocrite  and  bigot,"  because  she  would  not,  like  them,  act 
the  tyrant  over  the  consciences  of  others :  but  all  this,  aa 
she  observed  to  a  friend,  was  "  music  to  the  spirit  longing 
only  to  be  conformed  to  Him  who  was  despised  and  rejected 
by  men." 

Released  from  her  attendance  upon  the  sick,  Mother 
Seton  applied  herself  unremittingly  to  the  duties  of  the 
opening  school  and  of  the  spiritual  community  under  her 
charge.  On  the  14th  of  May,  the  first  boarding-pupils  were 
received  from  Frederick  county,  five  in  number,  and  were 
soon  followed  by  others.  In  June,  the  total  number  of 
scholars  at  St.  Joseph's  was  forty,  and  before  the  close  of  the 
year  the  boarders  alone  had  increased  to  thirty.  The  institu- 
tion, however,  according  to  its  original  design,  was  intended 
rather  for  the  benefit  of  the  poorer  class  than  for  the  educa- 
tion of  the  rich ;  but  the  indebtedness  of  the  house,  and 
the  want  of  an  adequate  support,  rendered  the  admission 
of  the  latter  unavoidable.  Aided  by  excellent  tutoresses, 
Mother  Seton  confined  herself  principally  to  a  general  super- 
intendence of  the  school,  particularly  as  her  feeble  health 
did  not  permit  her  to  assume  any  laborious  duty.  Her  part 
was  to  visit  the  classes,  to  exercise  the  talent  of  smiling  and 
caressing,  to  give  the  look  of  encouragement  or  reproof,  and 
in  this  way  to  inspire  both  the  pupils  and  their  mistresses 
with  a  cheerful  zeal  in  the  performance  of  their  respective 
duties.  The  applications  for  admissions  into  the  sisterhood 
were  also  frequent,  and,  with  the  prospects  of  the  school, 
gave  reason  to  believe  that  the  divine  blessing  would  con- 
tinue to  attend  the  institution.  Mother  Seton  thus  alludes 
to  the  condition  of  the  house  toward  the  end  of  May,  1810. 
After  mentioning  some  of  the  difficulties  she  had  encoun- 
tered in  the  beginning,  she  says  : — "  You  know  the  enemy 
of  all  good  will  of  course  make  his  endeavors  to  destroy  it; 
but  it  seems  our  Adored  is  determined  on  its  full  success, 


268  THE    LIFE    OF 

by  the  excellent  subjects  he  has  placed  in  it.  We  are  now 
twelve,  and  as  many  again  are  waiting  for  admission.  I 
have  a  very,  very  large  school  to  superintend  every  day,  and 
the  entire  charge  of  the  religious  instruction  of  all  the 
country  round.  All  apply  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  who 
are  night  and  day  devoted  to  the  sick  and  the  ignorant. 
Our  blessed  Bishop  intends  removing  a  detachment  of  us 
to  Baltimore,  to  perform  the  same  duties  there.  We  have 
here  a  very  good  house  though  a  log  building,  and  it  will 
be  the  mother-house  and  retreat  in  all  cases,  as  a  portion 
of  the  sisterhood  will  always  remain  in  it,  to  keep  the  spin- 
ning, weaving,  knitting,  and  school  for  country-people,  regu- 
larly progressing.  Our  blessed  Bishop  is  so  fond  of  our 
establishment  that  it  seems  to  be  the  darling  part  of  his 
charge ;  and  this  consoles  me  for  every  difficulty  or  embar- 
rassment. All  the  clergy  in  America  support  it  by  their 
prayers ;  and  there  is  every  hope  that  it  is  the  seed  of  an 
immensity  of  future  good.  You  must  admire  how  our  Lord 
should  have  chosen  such  a  one  as  /  to  preside  over  it,  but 
you  know  he  loves  to  show  his  strength  in  weakness  and 
his  wisdom  in  the  ignorant;  his  blessed  name  be  adored 
forever !  It  is  in  the  humble,  poor,  and  helpless  he  delights 
to  number  his  greatest  mercies  and  set  them  as  marks  to 
encourage  poor  sinners." 

Though  Mother  Seton  deemed  herself  unworthy  of  the 
station  which  she  filled,  the  rapid  progress  of  her  institu- 
tion proved  that  she  was  fully  adequate  to  the  office  that 
had  been  assigned  her.  During  the  years  1810  and  1811 
several  candidates  applied  for  admission  into  the  sisterhood, 
which  steadily  increased  in  numbers,  while  it  continued  to 
flourish  in  the  fervent  practice  of  the  Christiaa  virtues. 
Of  these  Mother  Seton  furnished  a  bright  example.  A 
spirit  of  mortification,  love  of  holy  poverty,  strict  fidelity  to 
rules,  recollection  of  mind,  with  a  cheerful  countenance, 


MRS.   E.   A.    SETON.  269 

shone  conspicuously  in  all  her  actions.  No  one  could  visit 
St.  Joseph's  House  without  being  edified  by  the  zeal  and 
regularity  which  prevailed  there.  Upon  a  visit  which  the 
Rt  Rev.  Bishop  Cheverus  made  to  the  valley  in  November 
1810,  in  company  with  Bishop  Egan,  of  Philadelphia,  he 
was  sensibly  affected  by  the  spirit  of  fervor  which  he  wit- 
nessed among  the  sisters.  Writing  to  their  Mother-Supe- 
rior shortly  after,  he  says,  "  The  happy  moments  I  have 
spent  with  you  and  them  are  present  to  my  mind,  and  still 
more  to  my  heart.  I  almost  envy  their  happiness  and 
yours.  I  hope  their  pious  example  has  not  been  lost  upon 
me."  On  the  other  hand,  the  truly  religious  spirit  of  St. 
Joseph's  community  was  not  less  clearly  manifested  in  the 
lively  joy  which  the  presence  of  those  excellent  prelates  in- 
spired. "  1  need  not  tell  you,"  says  Mother  Seton,  in  a 
letter  to  Archbishop  Carroll,  "  our  consolation  in  receiving 
the  blessed  bishops,  nor  how  many  benedictions  they  poured 
upon  us.  We  have  been  very  sensible  of  this  special  favor." 
To  Mother  Seton  the  visit  of  Bishop  Cheverus  was  a  source 
of  peculiar  satisfaction ;  and  the  impressions  which  it  awakened 
may  be  more  easily  imagined  than  described.  He  had  been 
her  friend  and  counsellor  before  and  ever  since  her  conver 
eion ;  had  aided  her  in  various  and  important  junctures  by  nis 
wise  instructions,  and  still  maintained  with  her  a  corre- 
spondence in  which  he  manifested  the  liveliest  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  herself,  her  children,  and  her  spiritual  daughters. 
But  this  valued  and  venerated  guide  she  had  never  seen 
antil  he  presented  himself  at  the  sisterhood  on  the  occasion 
just  mentioned.  "  No  sooner  did  he  make  himself  known  to 
her  than  she  fell  upon  her  knees,  seized  his  hands,  bathing 
them  with  her  tears,  and  remained  in  that  posture  more  than 
five  mimites,  without  being  able  to  articulate  a  word."*(18) 

*  Life  of  Cardinal  Cheverut,  translated  from  the  French  by  Robert  M. 


270  THE    LIFE    OF 

At  this  time  Mother  Seton  derived  the  most  efficient  aid 
from  the  wise  direction  of  the  Rev.  John  B.  David,  who, 
upon  the  resignation  of  Mr.  Dubourg,  had  been  appointed 
superior  of  St.  Joseph's  community.  Mr.  David  was  born 
near  Angers,  in  France,  in  1761,  of  pious  parents,  whose 
earnest  efforts  were  directed  to  his  religious  education. 
Blessed  from  his  early  childhood  with  a  disposition  to  piety, 
and  endowed  with  excellent  talents,  he  rapidly  advanced  in 
knowledge  and  virtue,  and  passed  through  his  collegiate 
course  among  the  Oratorians  with  distinguished  success. 
Having  embraced  the  ecclesiastical  state,  he  studied  theology 
in  the  seminary  of  Nantes,  and  afterward,  when  a  deacon, 
he  joined  the  society  of  St.  Sulpitius.  Upon  his  ordination 
to  the  priesthood,  in  1785,  he  was  employed  by  his  superiors 
in  the  seminary  of  Angers,  as  a  professor  of  philosophy, 
theology,  and  Scripture;  but  the  institution  having  soon  been 
closed  by  the  revolutionary  movements,  Mr.  David  took 
shelter  in  a  private  family,  where  he  lived  retired  for  two 
years,  and  then  sailed  for  the  United  States  in  the  company 
of  Rev.  Messrs.  Flagetand  Badin,  in  1792.  During  the  voyage 
he  applied  himself  to  the  study  of  the  English  language ;  for 
he  made  it  a  rule  to  be  always  employed  in  some  useful  oc- 
cupation. Hence,  on  his  arrival  in  this  country,  having  some 
knowledge  of  English,  he  was  at  once  appointed  by  Bishop 
Carroll  to  the  charge  of  a  mission  in  Maryland,  where  he 
labored  for  twelve  years  with  great  assiduity  and  success. 
He  was  the  first  to  introduce  among  the  faithful  in  the 
United  States  t'  3  salutary  practice  of  spiritual  retreat?,  and 
he  found  them  most  effe3tual  means  of  reviving  the  spirit 
of  piety  among  the  members  of  his  different  congregations 
In  ISO 4,  Bishop  Carroll  named  him  to  a  professorship  in 

Walsh,  Philadelphia,  1841,  p.  83.  This  work  states,  incorrectly,  that  Mra. 
Seton  had  been  in  Philadelphia,  and  had  established  a  hospital  j'»r  tin 
M»4  H  £uimettsburg. 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  271 

Georgetown  College,  which  he  filled  with  ability ;  and  two 
years  after,  he  was  called  to  St.  Mary's  Seminary,  in  Balti- 
more, under  the  charge  of  the  Sulpitians,  to  which  body  he 
belonged.  Here  he  was  laboriously  occupied  in  various 
offices  of  the  institution,  and  iu  the  duties  of  the  sacred 
ministry,  when  in  the  fall  of  1809  he  was  appointed  to  super- 
intend the  spiritual  concerns  of  the  rising  community  in 
St.  Joseph's  Valley.  For  this  office  he  was  well  qualified  by 
his  skill  in  the  direction  of  souls  and  his  zeal  for  the  strict 
observance  of  discipline.  Obedience  and  simplicity  were 
points  on  which  he  insisted  in  a  special  manner  in  his  in- 
structions to  the  sisters.  They  were  virtues  in  which  ho 
excelled  himself,  and  which  he  was  careful  to  impress  upon 
all  under  his  charge.  The  second  retreat  of  the  community, 
which  commenced  on  the  8th  of  October,  1810,  was  con- 
ducted by  him.  At  this  time  there  were  fifteen  members  in 
the  sisterhood.  The  following  direction,  which  he  gave  to 
Mother  Seton,  selected  from  the  few  fragments  of  his  instruc- 
tions that  have  been  preserved,  may  still  be  read  with  profit, 
and  will  perhaps  be  interesting  to  those  who  now  belong  to 
the  society.  "  I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  your  being  so  much 
indisposod.  Undoubtedly,  Lent,  though  not  very  severe  in 
these  our  wretched  times,  ought  nevertheless  to  abate  some- 
thing of  its  rigors  for  those  who  are  in  your  case.  Your 
pastor  ai>d  confessor  will  prescribe  in  his  prudence  what 
your  situation  requires,  and  I  doubt  not  but  that  the  love  of 
penance  will  yield  in  our  dear  infirm  sisters  to  the  voice  of 
obedience,  for  obedience  is  better  than  sacrifice.  I  much 
approve  of  the  maxim  that  complaining  is  a  sort  of  infidelity 
when  it  has  for  its  principle  impatience  or  an  anxiety  fot 
relief.  But,  on  the  other  side,  obedience  and  sincerity  re- 
quire that  infirm  sisters,  when  asked  about  their  state  of 
health,  should  candidly  declare  what  they  suffer,  neither  add- 
ing through  exaggeration,  easily  suggested  by  self-love  to 


272  THE   LIFE  or 

excite  commiseration,  nor  diminishing  through  a  miseoxy 
ceived  humility  or  modesty.  I  earnestly  exhort  you,  dea? 
Mother,  to  caution  your  daughters  against  a  want  of  that 
sincerity,  candor,  simplicity,  so  much  recommended  to  us  in 
the  gospel;  and  to  remind  them  often  that  the  true  spirit 
of  religion  is  a  spirit  of  infancy,  which  knows  no  disguise. 
It  must  be  a  rule  among  the  sisters  that,  whenever  they  are 
indisposed,  they  do  not  wait  till  they  are  asked,  but  go  and 
declare  it  to  their  Mother,  not  by  manner  of  complaint,  but 
simply  through  prudence  and  obedience  to  the  rule ;  and, 
when  questioned,  they  ought  also  to  answer  in  all  simplicity 
and  truth." — February  23,  1811.  A  few  months  after  he 
had  written  this  letter,  St.  Joseph's  was  deprived  of  the  valu 
able  services  of  Mr.  David,  in  consequence  of  his  determi- 
nation to  follow  the  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  Flaget,  his  old  friend 
and  companion,  to  his  new  field  of  labor.  They  set  out 
for  Kentucky  in  the  spring  of  that  year.  Mother  Seton 
having  always  relied  for  direction  chiefly  upon  the  wise 
counsels  of  Archbishop  Carroll,  she  became  still  more  the 
object  of  his  paternal  care  now  that  another  change  in  the 
government  of  St.  Joseph's  House  had  become  necessary  by 
the  departure  of  Rev.  Mr.  David.  She  had  maintained  an 
uninterrupted  correspondence  with  that  venerable  prelate, 
who  evinced  a  most  lively  interest  for  the  happiness  of  her- 
self, her  children,  and  her  community.  On  this  occasion  he 
wrote  to  her  assuring  her  of  his  continued  solicitude  and  of 
his  earnest  attention  to  all  that  would  be  requisite  for  the 
"benefit  and  perfect  contentment  of  herself  and  her  inte- 
resting family."  At  this  period,  and  until  the  appointment 
of  another  ecclesiastical  superior,  he  assumed  a  more  parti- 
cular superintendence  of  her  affairs,  owing  to  circumstance* 
that  will  be  mentioned  in  the  sequel. 

With  the  income  from  the  school  and  the  occasional  do- 
nations of  persons  friendly  to  the  institution,  St.  Joseph's 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETON.  273 

House  had  so  far  advanced  without  embarrassment.  As  we 
have  seen,  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi,  of  Leghorn,  had  no  sooner 
heard  of  the  institution  undertaken  by  Mother  Seton  in 
Baltimore,  than  he  contributed  largely  to  the  furtherance  of 
it,  directing  her  at  the  same  time  to  draw  without  hesitation 
upon  his  agents  for  any  additional  aid  she  might  require 
An  occasion  soon  presented  itself  for  another  appeal  to  hia 
liberality.  Kev.  Nicholas  Zocchi,  an  Italian  clergyman,  who 
was  pastor  of  Taneytown  and  other  places  in  Maryland, 
was  about  to  visit  Italy,  and  he  requested  Mother  Seton  to 
exchange  a  thousand  dollars  with  him  for  a  bill  on  her 
friend  in  Leghorn,  which  she  readily  did,  having  need  of 
funds  at  the  time ;  but,  fearing  lest  she  might  have  calcu- 
lated too  much  upon  his  generosity,  she  thus  expresses  her 
apprehensions : — "  It  is  almost  useless  to  tell  you  that  the 
New  Yorkers  have  given  me  up  altogether  and  entirely.  .  . 
I  find  my  name  cannot  be  mentioned  before  them.  .  .  .  Does 
it  hurt  you  that  I  press  so  hard  on  you  and  make  no  further 
application  to  them  ?  Consider,  how  can  I  apply  to  them 
for  means  which  would  go  to  the  support  only  of  a  religion 
ind  institution  they  abhor? — while  what  is  taken  from  you  is 
promoting  your  greatest  happiness  in  this  world  and  bring- 
ing you  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  Adored  in  the  next.  But, 
again,  let  me  repeat,  if  I  have  gone  too  far,  stop  me  short 
forever,  if  you  find  it  necessary,  without  fear  of  the  least 
wound  to  the  soul  you  love,  which  receives  all  from  your 
hands  as  from  that  of  our  Lord,  and,  whenever  they  may  be 
closed,  will  know  that  it  is  He  who  shuts  them  who  uses  all 
fox  his  own  glory  as  He  pleases.  I  do  not  write  your  Fi- 
lippc  now,  as  this  latter  will  serve  to  say  all  to  both — except 
the  fervency  and  attachment  of  my  very  soul  to  you  in 
Christ.  May  he  be  blessed  and  praised  forever  I  How 
great  that  attachment  is,  and  with  how  much  reason,  can 
only  be  known  by  one  who  ones  was  what  I  have  been,  and 


274  THE    LIFE    OP 

can  conceive  how  great  the  contrast  of  past  and  present  if. 
This  is  understood  by  Him  alone  who  gave  you  to  me  and 
us  to  you ;  for  which,  I  trust,  we  will  love,  praise,  and  adore 
through  eternity."  Mother  Seton  had  no  need  of  apolo- 
gizing for  her  appeal  to  Mr.  Filicchi's  continued  liberality. 
The  friendship  of  this  truly  Christian  gentleman  knew  no 
bounds.  He  not  only  honored  her  draft  upon  him,  but  he 
nrged  her  in  the  most  pressing  terms  to  repeat  her  demands 
in  any  other  emergency  that  might  arise.  "  Chase  your  dif- 
fidence away,"  said  he;  fi speak  to  your  brother  the  wants  of 
a  sister,  and  trust  in  the  One  who  knows  how  to  clothe  and 
feed  the  birds  of  the  air  and  make  the  grass  of  the  earth  to 
shine."  The  progress  of  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood,  and  the 
benefits  that  began  already  to  accrue  from  it  to  society  and 
religion,  were  a  source  of  the  most  lively  joy  to  the  heart  of 
Mr.  Filicchi ;  for  he  could  not  but  feel  that,  under  God,  he 
had  been  vastly  instrumental  in  accomplishing  this  good 
work.  In  the  establishment  that  had  risen  up  at  St.  Jo- 
seph's he  beheld  the  happy  results  of  his  own  zeal  and  mu- 
nificence, to  which  the  Almighty  had  imparted  a  copious 
blessing.  Such  was  the  view  of  it  which  Mother  Seton 
also  entertained.  In  writing  to  him,  she  would  say,  "Pray 
for  your  own  work,  that  it  may  be  crowned  at  last."  But 
no  language  can  express  the  heartfelt  gratitude  with  which 
she  recalled  the  numerous  and  signal  favors  which  she  had 
received  at  the  hands  of  the  Messrs.  Filicchi.  She  looked 
upon  them  as  friends  whose  benefactions  could  never  be 
sufficiently  repaid.  We  might  infer  this  from  the  portions 
of  her  letters  already  cited;  but  the  following  will  show  thai 
her  gratitude  was  of  the  most  practical  character,  and  that 
nothing  was  omitted  on  her  part  to  draw  an  abundant  bless 
ing  and  reward  upon  those  true  friends  who  never  wearieO 
in  well-doing. 


MRS.   B.   A.    SETON.  275 

Jane  24,  1811. 

"My  dear,  a  thousand  times  dear,  Antonio,  you  cannot 
even  guess  my  joy  to  hear  once  more  of  you  and  your  most 
dear  ones ;  that  our  Filippo,  for  whom  so  often  the  sighs 
and  aspirations  of  regret  and  desire  for  his  rest  and  repose 
have  ascended,  and  so  many  communions  of  gratitude  and 
affection  have  been  offered,  (fully  convinced  that  he  was  no 
longer  with  you,)  to  hear  not  only  that  he  is  alive,  but  cer- 
tainly recovering,  and  that  neither  of  you  are  angry  with 
the  poor  little  sister  or  have  thought  of  renouncing  her. 
Oh,  what  true  and  heartfelt  comfort  and  blessing  is  this,  to 
compare  with  the  many  acts  of  resignation  I  have  been  con- 
stantly making,  not  only  of  your  precious  life  in  the  dangers 
of  your  situation,  but  of  that  friendship  and  protection 
which  is  our  only  earthly  possession.  .  .  .  Dearest  and  most 
generous  of  all  hearts,  your  possessions  will  never,  never 
fail.  ...  If  you  have  received  no  other  letters  than  those 
you  mention,  you  do  not  perhaps  know  of  the  happy  conver- 
sion and  subsequent  death  of  our  Harriet  Seton.  Cecilia's 
death  Mr.  Zocchi  must  have  mentioned  particularly.  Har- 
riet's was  also  everyway  consoling.  I  have  them  both  lying 
close  by  our  dwelling,  and  there  say  my  Te  Deum  every 
evening.  Oh,  Antonio,  could  you  and  Filippo  know  half 
the  blessing  you  have  procured  us  all !  My  Anna  now  treads 
in  their  steps,  and  is  an  example  of  youth,  beauty,  and  grace, 
internally  and  externally,  which  must  be  and  is  admired  as 
ft  most  striking  blessing  not  only  to  her  mother,  but  to  many. 
My  two  little  girls  are  very  good,  and  know  no  other  lan- 
guage or  thoughts  but  of  serving  and  loving  our  dear  Lord — 
I  do  not  mean  in  a  religious  life,  which  cannot  be  judged  at 
their  age,  but  of  being  His  wherever  they  may  be.  The  dis- 
tant hope  your  letter  gives  that  there  is  a  possibility  of  your 
coming  to  this  country  is  a  light  to  my  gloomy  prospect* 
for  my  poor  children, — not  for  their  temporal  good :  our 


276  THE    LIFE    Of 

Lord  knows  I  would  never  grieve  to  see  them  even  beggars 
if  they  preserve  and  practise  their  faith  j — but  their  prospect 
in  the  case  of  my  death  is  as  desolate  as  it  can  be,  unless 
they  are  given  up  to  their  old  friends,  which  would  be  almost 
their  certain  ruin  of  principle.  I  give  all  up,  you  may  be 
sure,  to  Him  who  feeds  the  birds  of  heaven,  as  you  say;  but, 
in  the  weak  and  decaying  state  of  my  health,  which  is  almost 
broken  down,  can  I  look  at  the  five  without  the  fears  and 
forebodings  of  a  mother,  whose  only  thought  or  desire  is  for 
their  eternity?  Our  blessed  Cheverus  seemed  to  have  many 
hopes  of  them  when  he  came  to  see  us  last  winter,  and  en- 
couraged me  to  believe  he  would  do  all  he  could  for  their 
protection.  To  him  and  your  Filicchi  hearts  I  commit  them 
in  this  world.  Our  success  in  having  obtained  the  confi- 
dence of  so  many  respectable  parents,  who  have  committed 
the  whole  charge  of  their  children  to  us,  to  the  number  of 
about  fifty,  besides  poor  children  who  have  not  means  of 
education,  has  enabled  us  to  get  on  very  well  without  debt 
or  embarrassment;  and  I  hope  our  Adored  has  already  done  a 
great  deal  through  our  establishment.  The  reverend  Superior 
of  St.  Mary's  in  Baltimore,  who  was  our  first  director,  has 
zealously  endeavored  to  do  a  great  deal  more ;  but  he  did 
not  find  me  as  ready  as  converts  generally  are,  as  I  had  to 
include  the  consideration  of  my  poor  children  in  my  reli 
gious  character,  which  has  greatly  pleased  and  satisfied  our 
blessed  Cheverus  and  Archbishop  Carroll,  who  is  njw  more 
my  protector  than  ever,  more  truly  attached  to  us,  and, 
finally,  takes  the  superior  charge  of  our  house,  which  at  first 
he  had  bestowed  on  another;  so  that  every  thing  I  do  or 
act,  even  in  points  less  material,  is  and  will  be  solely  di- 
rected by  them.  .  .  .  Oh,  Filicchi !  how  is  the  blessing  you 
most  love  increased  and  increasing  in  our  wooden  land,  aa 
you  used  to  call  it!  Blessed,  a  thousand  times  blessed,  be 
His  holy  name  forever!  You  direct  your  letter  to  Balti- 


MRS.    E.    A.    BETON.  277 

more,  but  we  are  fifty  miles  from  it,  in  the  raidst  of  woods 
and  mountains.  If  we  had  but  the  dear  Christian  children 
and  their  father  and  mother,  it  would  be  an  earthly  para- 
dise to  me.  No  wars  or  rumors  of  wars  here,  but  fields  ripe 
•with  harvest;  the  mountain  church  St.  Mary's,  the  village 
church  St.  Joseph's,  and  our  spacious  log-house,  containing 
a  private  chapel,  (pur  Adored  always  there,)  is  all  our  riches, 
and  old  Bony  would  not  covet  them,  though  one  of  the  most 
eloquent  and  elegant  orators  at  the  bar  of  New  York  wrote 
our  poor  Harriet,  among  other  reasons  why  she  should  not 
listen  "  to  the  siren  voice  of  her  sister,"  that  in  a  few  years 
every  Catholic  building  should  be  razed  to  the  ground  and 
our  house  shortly  be  pulled  about  our  ears.  That  would  be 
odd  enough  in  the  land  of  liberty.  Will  you  tell  your  most 
honored  brother  that  my  prayers  shall  not  now  go  beyond 
the  grave  for  him,  but  will  be  equally  constant  ?  All  the 
children  go  to  communion  once  a  month,  except  little  Re- 
becca, (Annina  once  a  week,)  and,  believe  me,  their  mother's 
example  and  influence  is  not  wanting  to  excite  every  devo- 
tion of  gratitude  and  lively  affection  for  their  true  and  dear- 
est friends  and  best  of  fathers,  through  whom  they  have  re- 
ceived a  real  life  and  been  brought  to  the  light  of  everlast- 
ing life.  Our  whole  family,  sisters  and  all,  make  our  cause 
their  own ;  and  many,  many  communions  have  been  and  will 
be  offered  for  you  both,  by  souls  who  have  no  hope  of  know- 
ing you  but  in  heaven.  Eternity,  eternity,  my  brother ! 
Will  I  pass  it  with  you  ?  So  much  has  been  given  which 
not  only  I  never  deserved,  but  have  done  every  thing  to 
provoke  the  adorable  hand  to  withhold  from  me,  that  I  even 
dare  hope  for  that,  that  which  I  forever  ask  as  the  dearest, 
most  desired  favor.  If  I  never  write  you  again  from  this 
world,  pray  for  me  continually.  If  I  am  heard  in  the  next, 
oh,  Antonio,  what  would  I  not  obtain  for  you,  your  Filippo, 
24 


278  THE    LIFE    Of 

and  all  yours !  .  .  .  May  the  blessings  you  bestow  on  us  b« 
rewarded  to  you  a  thousand  times !     Ever  yours." 

From  the  statements  here  made  by  Mother  Seton,  we 
learn  that  the  institution  under  her  charge  continued  to 
flourish  and  to  produce  the  most  precious  fruits.  Her 
children  in  the  order  of  nature,  her  daughters  at  St.  Joseph's 
and  her  two  sons  at  the  mountain  college,  were  growing  up 
in  knowledge  and  piety;  the  pupils  whose  education  was 
committed  to  her  care  were  steadily  increasing  in  number ; 
her  spiritual  daughters  were  also  rallying  thickly  around 
her,  and  the  work  of  charity  was  done  to  the  poor.  Exte- 
riorly St.  Joseph's  House  was  moving  in  a  tide  of  usefulness, 
while  internally  it  was  the  abode  of  peace  and  sanctity,  and 
afforded  a  happiness  which  was  unknown  in  the  busy  world. 
Mother  Seton  has  thus  depicted  the  blessings  of  her  religious 
retirement,  in  a  letter  to  a  dear  friend  who  was  thinking  of 
visiting  the  institution.  "  The  very  thought  of  your  visiting 
gives  a  delight  to  us  you  can  never  imagine.  The  solitude 
of  our  mountains,  the  silence  of  Cecilia's  and  Harriet's 
graves,  your  skipping  children  over  the  woods,  which  in  the 
spring  are  covered  with  wild-flowers  they  would  gather  for 
you  at  every  step,  the  regularity  of  our  house,  which  is  very 
spacious,  and  in  an  end  wing  contains  our  dear,  dear  chapel, 
BO  neat  and  quiet,  where  dwells,  as  we  believe,*  night  and 
day,  you  know  Who;  this  is  no  dream  of  fancy,  and  only  a 
email  part  of  the  reality  of  our  blessing.  You  must  be  a 
witness  to  believe  that,  from  Monday  to  Saturday,  all  is 
quiet,  no  violation  of  each  other's  tranquillity,  each  helping 
the  other  with  a  look  of  good- will  which  must  indeed  be 
seen  to  be  believed.  All  the  world  would  not  have  persuaded 
me  if  I  had  not  proved  it ;  so  you  may  be  increduloui 
till  you  come  and  see.  \Ve  have  no  kind  of  society  but  OUT 

•  She  was  writing  to  a  Protestant 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  279 

mountain  pastor,  who  is  a  polished,  simple,  truly  holy  man, 
says  mass  for  us  at  sunrise  all  the  year  round.  If  any  one 
has  a  trouble,  it  is  carried  to  him ;  they  receive  their  conso- 
lation, and  it  is  buried  in  silence." 

The  blessings,  however,  enjoyed  by  the  inmates  of  St. 
Joseph's,  and  the  usefulness  of  the  institution,  would  not 
have  been  permanent  without  increased  and  strenuous  exer- 
tions on  the  part  of  Mother  Seton.  The  maintenance  of  the 
house  found  a  provision  in  the  income  from  the  board  and 
tuition  of  the  pupils  :  but  the  debts  contracted  by  the  im- 
provement of  their  property  were  yet  to  be  liquidated,  and 
threatened  to  place  it  in  a  very  embarrassing  position.  In 
this  situation  of  affairs,  different  plans  were  devised  for  the 
relief  of  the  house,  among  which  it  was  proposed  that  Mother 
Seton  should  make  a  tour  through  the  country,  and  solicit 
aid  from  those  who  were  friendly  to  the  objects  of  the  insti- 
tution :  but  this  scheme  was  eventually  abandoned.  Bishop 
Cheverus,  writing  to  her  on  this  subject,  says,  "  I  am  much 
grieved  at  the  troubles  you  are  in,  and  the  more  so  because 
I  do  not  see  how  you  will  be  extricated  from  them.  Your- 
self to  leave  your  house  and  travel  to  make  collections,  &c. 
does  not  appear  to  me  an  eligible  plan,  although  it  would 
procure  me  the  happiness  of  seeing  you  in  Boston  ;  and,  in 
the  present  situation  of  affairs,  very  little,  I  am  afraid,  would 
be  collected.  An  application  by  a  circular  letter  would 
hardly  produce  any  thing,  but  at  least  it  would  not  be  at- 
tended with  the  same  inconveniences  as  your  personal  attend- 
ance. ...  I  am  still  in  hopes  that  some  pious  and  generous 
souls  will  give,  or  at  least  advance,  the  money  you  owe,  and 
that  your  invaluable  establishment  will  subsist  and  flourish." 
To  avert  the  destruction  of  the  institution.  Mother  Seton 
privately  appealed  to  the  liberality  of  friends,  among  whom 
General  Robert  G-.  Harper  was  conspicuous,  both  for  the  in- 
terest he  manifested  in  the  welfare  of  St.  Joseph's  HOUM 


280  THE    LIFE    OF 

and  for  the  eminence  of  his  position  in  society.*  The  fol- 
lowing letter,  addressed  to  him  by  Mother  Seton,  will  serve 
to  show  the  difficulties  she  had  to  contend  with,  and  the  elo- 
quence of  her  pen  in  pleading  the  cause  of  religion  and  hu- 
manity : — "  Will  you  permit  the  great  distance  between  us 
to  be  forgotten  for  a  moment,  and  suffer  the  force  of  those 
sentiments  which  your  liberality  and  kindness  to  us  hava 
created  to  act  without  reserve  in  speaking  to  you  on  a  sub- 
ject I  believe  you  think  interesting?  The  promising  and 
amiable  perspective  of  establishing  a  house  of  plain  and  use- 
ful education,  retired  from  the  extravagance  of  the  world, 
connected  also  with  the  view  of  providing  nurses  for  the  sick 
and  poor,  an  abode  of  innocence  and  refuge  of  affliction,  is,  I 
fear,  now  disappearing  under  the  pressure  of  debts  contracted 
at  its  very  foundation.  Having  received  the  pensions  of  our 
boarders  in  advance,  and  with  them  obliged  not  only  to 
maintain  ourselves,  but  also  to  discharge  the  endless  de- 
mands of  carpenters  and  workmen,  we  are  reduced  now  to 
our  credit,  which  is  poor  indeed.  The  credit  of  twenty  pool 
women,  who  are  capable  only  of  earning  their  daily  bread 
la  but  a  small  stock,  particularly  when  their  flour-merchant, 
grocer,  and  butcher,  are  more  already  in  advance  than  they 
are  willing  to  afford.  What  is  our  resource  ?  If  we  sell 
our  house  to  pay  our  debts,  we  must  severally  return  to  our 
separate  homes.  Must  it  be  so,  or  will  a  friendly  hand  as- 
sist us,  become  our  guardian  protector,  plead  our  cause  with 
the  rich  and  powerful,  serve  the  cause  of  humanity,  and  be  a 
father  to  the  poor  ?  Would  Mrs.  Harper  be  interested  for 
us,  or  is  this  an  extravagant  dream  of  female  fancy?  Oh, 
no !  Mrs.  Harper  has  a  heart  of  pity;  she  has  proved  it  un- 
solicited. If  we  were  relieved  but  from  a  momentary  em- 

•  General  Harper,  son-in-law  of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton,  was  on* 
of  the  most  gifted  orators  of  the  American  Bar.  Some  of  his  speeches 
have  been  published,  in  3  vols.  8ro. 


MRS.  E.    A.    SETON.  281 

barrassmeut,  her  name  would  be  blessed  by  future  genera- 
tions ;  for,  so  simple  and  unpretending  is  our  object,  we  can- 
not fail  of  success  if  not  crushed  in  our  beginning.  The 
Rev.  Mr  Dubourg  has  exerted  himself  continually  for  us, 
and  bestowed  all  he  could  personally  give.  From  him  we 
are  to  expect  no  more.  What  shall  we  do  ?  How  dare  I 
ask  you,  dear  sir,  the  question  ?  But,  if  addressing  it  to 
you  gives  you  a  moment's  displeasure,  forgive;  and,  consi- 
dering it  as  any  other  occurrence  of  life  which  is  differently 
judged  of  according  to  the  light  in  which  it  is  viewed,  then 
blot  it  out,  and  be  assured,  whatever  may  be  your  impression 
of  it,  it  arose  from  a  heart  filled  with  the  sentiment  of  your 
generosity  and  overflowing  with  gratitude  and  respect.  .  . 
Dear  Mrs.  Harper,  tell  your  sweet  nieces  to  look  at  the  price 
of  a  shawl  or  veil,  and  think  of  the  poor  family  of  St.  Jo- 
seph's/' December  28, 1811. 

Happily  for  religion  and  society,  the  institution  was 
rescued  from  its  impending  danger  by  the  timely  aid  of  its 
friends ;  and,  though  it  had  to  struggle  on  amid  difficulties 
and  trials,  it  gradually  became  more  and  more  consolidated, 
and  an  instrument  of  great  and  extensive  good  in  the  hand* 
of  Divine  Providence. 


282  THE  Lirx  OJT 


BOOK  VII. 

Colony  of  Sisters  expected  from  France— Their  disappointment — Origia 
and  diffusion  of  the  "  Daughters  of  Charity" — Object  and  spirit  of  tht 
Society — Government  of  St.  Joseph's  House — Mother  Seton's  peculiar 
position — She  consults  Archbishop  Carroll — His  advice  to  her  and  ap- 
proval of  the  roles — Adoption  of  them  by  the  Community — Final  con- 
firmation— Mother  Seton's  humility — First  election  of  officers — Cos- 
tume of  the  Sisters — Increase  of  the  Society — Sister  Annina  Seton — 
Her  illness,  piety,  and  death — Mother  Seton's  sentiments. 

IT  has  been  stated  in  the  preceding  book  that,  with  a  view 
to  form  St.  Joseph's  community  upon  the  institute  of  the 
"Daughters  of  Charity"  founded  by  St.  Vincent  of  Paul,  the 
society  in  France  was  requested  to  depute  some  of  its  mem- 
bers to  aid  in  establishing  a  branch  of  the  sisterhood  at  Em- 
mettsburg.  The  Rt.  Rev.  Mr.  Flaget,  who  had  been  intrusted 
with  the  negotiation  of  this  matter,  succeeded  in  awakening 
a  lively  interest  in  favor  of  the  contemplated  institution,  and 
obtained  from  the  society  in  Europe  its  assent  to  the  pro- 
posed measure.  As  the  following  communication  will  show, 
several  sisters  were  appointed,  and  were  expecting  soon  to 
embark  for  their  new  mission  in  the  United  States  of 
America: — 

"  BORDEAUX,  July  12,  1810. 

"Mr  DEAR  SISTERS  : — 

"As  it  is  not  yet  in  my  power  to  leave  France,  I  write 
for  the  purpose  of  proving  to  you  that  you  are  the  object 
of  my  thoughts.  I  hope  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
you  in  a  few  months,  as  the  Almighty,  who  calls  you  to  OUT 
holy  state,  and  has  inspired  me  as  well  as  many  of  my  com- 
panions with  the  desire  of  being  useful  to  you,  will  not  fail 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETOW.  283 

to  prepare  the  way  for  our  departure.  That  all-powerful 
God  who  made  choice  of  poor  fishermen,  weak  and  ignorant 
men,  to  become  the  foundations  of  his  Church,  is  pleased 
also  in  our  days  to  employ  the  most  feeble  instruments,  for 
the  greater  glory  of  his  name,  to  found  an  establishment 
that  will  be  agreeable  to  him,  since  it  has  for  its  object  the 
Bervice  of  his  suffering  members.  Oh,  how  beautiful  is  that 
calling  which  enables  us  to  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  our 
Divine  Saviour,  to  practise  the  virtues  which  he  practised, 
and  to  offer  ourselves  a  sacrifice  to  him  as  he  offered  him- 
self for  us !  What  gratitude,  what  love,  do  we  not  owe  to 
that  tender  Father  for  having  chosen  us  for  so  sublime  a 
vocation !  Let  us  thank  him,  dear  sisters,  and  pray  him  for 
each  other,  that  he  will  grant  us  the  grace  of  corresponding 
faithfully  to  this  inestimable  privilege.  Let  us  have  recourse 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  to  St.  Vincent  of  Paul,  our  father,  to 
Mademoiselle  Legras,  our  blessed  mother,  that  they  may 
obtain  this  happiness  for  their  cherished  daughters.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  of  our  being  dear  to  them,  since  we  love 
them  and  desire  to  be  subject  to  them.  As  Mon«eigneur 
Flaget  will  have  made  known  to  you  the  disposition*  which 
his  zeal  and  holy  interest  for  you  have  awakened  among  us, 
I  will  conclude,  dear  sisters,  (soon  to  be  companions,)  by  as- 
suring you  of  the  sincere  and  entire  devotedness  and  re- 
spect of 

"  Your  very  humble  sister, 

"  MARIE  BIZERAY, 

"  Unworthy  daughter  of  charity, 

"  Servant  of  the  poor."* 

The  zealous  and  pious  wish  here  expressed  to  serve  the 
cause  of  charity  in  this  country  was  not  permitted  by  Di- 

*  The  original  letter  is  in  French,  and  is  signed  by  two  others,  Sister 
Woirin  and  Sister  Augustine  Chaurin,  who  probably  had  also  been  deaif. 
uted  fir  the  United  States. 


284  THE  LIFE  or 

vine  Providence  to  be  realized.  Owing  to  obstacles  throw* 
in  the  way  by  the  government  of  Bonaparte,  the  colony  ol 
French  sisters  could  not  obtain  the  necessary  passports,  and 
accordingly  their  arrangements  were  frustrated.  The  lit. 
Rev.  Mr.  Flaget,  however,  obtained  a  copy  of  their  rules, 
and  brought  it  with  him  on  his  return  to  America,  in 
August  of  the  same  year. 

The  end  which  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Joseph  pro- 
posed to  themselves  was  to  honor  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as 
the  source  and  model  of  all  charity,  by  rendering  to  him 
every  temporal  and  spiritual  service  in  their  power,  in  the 
persons  of  the  poor,  the  sick,  prisoners,  and  others  ;*  also, 
to  honor  the  sacred  infancy  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  young 
persons  of  their  sex  whom  they  may  be  called  upon  to  form 
to  virtue,  while  they  sow  in  their  minds  the  seed  of  useful 
knowledge."f  Thus  the  poor,  of  all  descriptions  and  ages, 
the  sick,  invalids,  foundlings,  orphans,  and  even  insane  per- 
sons, were  embraced  within  the  sphere  of  their  solicitude  and 
care.  Another  object  of  their  zeal,  no  less  important  at  that 
time  in  America,  was  the  instruction  of  young  persons  of 
their  sex  in  virtue,  piety,  and  various  branches  of  useful 
learning.  This  instruction  they  were  to  extend  gratis  to 
poor  orphans,  as  far  as  circumstances  would  permit.  The 
education  of  female  youth  in  general  did  not  enter  into  the 
plan  contemplated  by  St.  Vincent  of  Paul.  On  the  one 
hand,  the  great  facilities  which  France  and  other  parts  of 
Europe  offered  for  the  instruction  of  young  ladies  in  the 
knowledge  and  accomplishments  of  their  sex,  made  it  need- 
less for  the  good  of  society;  while,  on  the  other,  the  liberal 

•  "  The  king  answering  shall  say  to  them :  Amen  I  say  to  you,  ai 
long  as  you  did  it  to  one  of  these  my  least  brethren,  you  did  it  to  me." 
Matt.  xxv.  40. 

|  "  He  that  shall  receive  one  such  little  child  in  my  name,  receiveth 
«•."  Matt  xviii.  6. 


Mas.  *.  A,  SETON.  285 

endowments  by  which  his  spiritual  daughters  were  enabled 
to  pursue  their  charitable  labors  dispensed  tbem  from  the 
necessity  of  earning  the  means  of  support.  But  the  case 
was  very  different  in  the  United  States.  The  superiors  of 
St.  Joseph's  community  thought  it  essential  to  the  very  ex- 
istence of  the  society  that  it  should  embrace  in  its  object 
the  education  of  young  ladies  who  were  able  to  pay  for  their 
instruction,  as  without  this  its  resources  would  be  insufficient 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  mother-house  and  an  orphan 
asylum.  Moreover,  this  modification  of  the  rules  of  St.  Vin- 
cent appeared  the  more  desirable,  as  it  would  extend  the 
benefits  of  religious  instruction  to  a  class  of  society  which 
has  the  greatest  influence  upon  public  morals,  and  which 
then  possessed  but  scanty  facilities  in  the  United  States  for 
obtaining  a  solid  and  virtuous  education. 

To  carry  out  the  above-mentioned  objects,  the  society  is 
composed  of  such  as  were  never  married,  and  of  widows,  who 
are  required  to  be  sound  of  mind  and  body,  and  free  from 
all  defects  that  would  prevent  them  from  discharging  the 
functions  of  their  state.  They  must  be  of  good  character 
and  respectable  connections,  of  an  age  commonly  not  short 
of  sixteen  nor  exceeding  twenty-eight,  and,  above  all,  fully 
disposed  to  serve  God  during  their  whole  life  in  the  persons 
of  the  poor  and  the  education  of  youth,  with  an  entire  sub- 
mission to  the  guidance  of  superiors  and  a  great  fidelity  to 
the  rules  of  the  institute. 

Candidates  for  admission  into  the  sisterhood  are  per 
mitted,  after  mature  deliberation,  to  enter  the  novitiate,  01 
term  of  probation,  during  which  they  are  instructed  particu 
larly  in  the  duties  and  spirit  of  their  vocation.  At  the  ex 
piration  of  this  period,  if  judged  competent  by  the  superiors 
they  are  allowed  to  make  the  simple  vows  of  poverty,  chas- 
tity, and  obedience,  and  permanency  in  the  company,  accord- 
ing to  their  rules,  and  this  for  one  year  only,  conformably  to 


286  THE  LIFE  or 

the  practice  of  the  community.  These  vows  are  intended  to 
check  the  inconstancy  of  the  human  mind,  and  to  prevent  • 
hasty  return  to  the  world  which  might  be  followed  hy  regret 
and  remorse ;  but,  as  they  bind  only  for  a  period  of  twelve 
months,  the  sisters  are  at  liberty  to  withdraw  at  the  expira- 
tion of  this  time,  though  they  are  supposed  to  make  their 
vows  in  the  first  instance  with  a  determination  to  remain 
during  their  whole  life  in  their  holy  vocation. 

As  nothing  could  be  more  excellent  and  sublime  than  the 
end  contemplated  by  the  sisterhood  of  St.  Joseph's,  the  most 
perfect  dispositions  are  required  in  its  members,  and  the 
rules  prescribed  for  their  observance  tend  no  less  to  their 
own  personal  sanctification  than  to  their  preparation  for  the 
service  of  the  neighbor.  That  they  may  correspond  with 
the  grace  of  their  vocation,  and  fulfil,  with  merit  to  them 
selves  and  benefit  to  others,  the  great  obligations  annexed  to 
it,  they  are  strenuously  exhorted  to  the  practice  of  holiness, 
to  aim  at  Christian  perfection,  and  to  join  the  exercises  of 
an  interior  and  spiritual  life  with  their  exterior  employ- 
ments, according  to  the  regulations  of  the  institute,  the  faith- 
ful observance  of  which  is  considered  the  most  effectual 
means  of  attaining  the  ends  of  their  holy  state.  Though 
they  do  not  belong  to  a  religious  order,  (such  a  state  being 
incompatible  with  the  objects  of  their  society,)  yet,  as  ttey 
are  more  exposed  to  the  world  than  members  of  a  religious 
order,  having  in  most  circumstances  no  other  monastery 
than  the  houses  of  the  sick  or  the  school-room,  no  other  cell 
than  a  rented  apartment,  no  other  chapel  than  the  parish 
church,  no  cloister  but  the  public  street  or  hospital,  no  en- 
slosure  but  obedience,  no  grate  but  the  fear  of  God,  no  veil 
but  that  of  holy  modesty,  they  are  taught  to  aim  at  the 
highest  virtue,  and  to  comport  themselves  under  all  circum- 
stances with  as  much  edification  as  if  they  were  living  in 
the  seclusion  of  a  consent.  The  salvation  of  their  soul  u 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  287 

the  paramount  consideration  they  are  to  have  in  view.  The 
cultivation  of  humility,  charity,  and  simplicity,  the  perform- 
ance  of  their  actions  in  union  with  the  Son  of  God,  contempt 
of  the  world,  disengagement  from  created  things,  love  of 
abjection,  patient  and  even  cheerful  endurance  of  all  earthly 
crosses  and  trials,  and  a  great  confidence  in  Divine  Provi- 
dence, are  practices  which  the  sisters  consider  essential  to 
their  profession. 

In  addition  to  these  holy  maxims,  which  may  be  said  to 
form  the  characteristic  spirit  of  the  society,  the  sisters  are 
animated  in  a  special  manner,  by  the  requirements  of  the 
holy  vows  of  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience,  to  pursue  with 
zeal  the  objects  of  their  institute.  The  most  admirable 
rules  are  laid  down  for  the  practice  of  mutual  charity  among 
themselves,  and  also  for  the  proper  fulfilment  of  the  duties 
that  may  be  assigned  to  them,  whether  attending  the  sick 
in  hospitals  and  private  houses,  conducting  free  schools  and 
asylums,  or  discharging  other  offices  of  their  state.  The 
dangers  to  be  met  with  in  various  situations  are  pointed  out, 
as  well  as  the  precautions  to  be  adopted.  In  a  word,  no 
instruction  is  omitted  that  could  tend  to  qualify  the  Sister 
of  Charity  for  the  worthy  and  successful  performance  of  her 
high  functions. 

But,  as  she  would  in  vain  hope  to  acquit  herself  faith- 
fu.ly  of  these  onerous  duties,  and  in  that  proper  spirit  which 
they  demand,  without  the  assiduous  exercise  of  prayer  and 
reflection,  a  strict  attention  is  required  to  various  practices 
of  piety,  such  as  morning  and  evening  prayer,  meditation, 
spiritual  reading,  self-examination,  frequentation  of  the  sa- 
craments, and  other  devotions,  which  tend  to  enkindle  in 
the  soul  the  love  of  God  and  the  neighbor,  to  nourish  the 
spirit  of  faith,  and  to  maintain  a  perpetual  triumph  of  grace 
over  the  weakness  of  nature  and  the  suggestions  of  the 
world.  In  any  of  the  situations  in  which  a  sister  may  be 


288  THE    LIFE    OJT 

employed,  whether  at  the  mother-house  or  on  the  missions, 
a  large  portion  of  her  daily  time  is  appropriated  to  praye? 
and  other  spiritual  exercises,  while  the  remainder  is  filled  up 
with  the  duties  of  her  calling. 

The  power  and  authority  which  were  necessary  to  main- 
tain the  spirit  of  the  institute,  to  insure  its  objects,  and  re- 
gulate its  various  operations,  were  vested  in  a  central  govern- 
ment, composed  of  a  superior-general,  (who  is  a  clergyman,)  a 
mother-superior,  an  assistant,  a  treasurer,  and  a  procuratrix. 
The  superior  of  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpitius  in  Baltimore 
was  ex  officio  protector  of  the  constitutions  of  the  society, 
and  had  an  eye  to  their  faithful  observance.  The  superior- 
general  was  to  be  consulted  on  all  important  matters,  both 
temporal  and  spiritual.  The  mother-superior  was  to  exercise 
a  more  immediate  supervision  over  affairs,  and  particularly 
over  the  principal  establishment  in  which  she  resides.  To 
be  eligible  to  this  office,  it  was  required  that  a  sister  should 
be  thirty-five  years  of  age  and  have  been  a  member  of  the 
community  twelve  years  j  moreover,  that  she  should  possess 
a  mature  judgment,  with  the  talent  of  governing,  and,  above 
all,  be  exemplary  in  the  practice  of  the  different  virtues 
which  the  vocation  of  a  Sister  of  Charity  demands.  The 
mother  was  to  be  elected  in  a  general  assembly  of  the  sisters, 
by  a  majority  of  votes,  for  a  term  of  three  years,  and  could 
be  re-elected  a  second  term,  but  not  longer.  The  offices  of 
assistant,  treasurer,  and  procuratrix,  were  also  to  be  con- 
ferred  by  a  majority  of  votes,  and  for  only  one  term  of  three 
years.  These  officers  formed  the  council  of  the  mother ; 
and  tc  their  joint  deliberation  were  referred  all  matter? 
relating  to  the  interests  of  the  company.  Besides  the 
mother  and  her  council,  there  was  a  mistress  of  novices  in 
the  principal  house,  appointed  by  the  mother  with  the  aid 
t>f  her  advisers,  to  form  those  who  were  admitted  into  the 
Jttterhood  to  the  spirit  and  duties  of  their  vocation.  On» 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  289 

of  the  sisters  was  also  appointed,  in  the  same  way,  to  regulate 
and  superintend  the  exercises  of  St.  Joseph's  Academy.  The 
establishments  abroad  have  each  a  presiding  officer  to 
watch  over  its  concerns,  who  is  appointed  by  the  same  au- 
thority, and  is  called  the  sister-servant.  All  other  inferior 
offices  are  distributed  by  the  mother,  according  to  her  judg- 
ment and  discretion. 

In  consequence  of  the  peculiar  position  of  Mother  Seton, 
surrounded  by  five  children,  who  depended  entirely  upon 
her  maternal  care  and  vigilance,  especially  for  the  security 
of  their  religious  principles,  it  was  at  first  thought  imprac- 
ticable for  her  to  bind  herself  permanently  to  a  religious 
company  and  to  assume  the  government  of  it,  obliged  as  she 
was  to  take  the  principal  part  in  the  superintendence  of  her 
children's  welfare.  She  herself  was  fully  convinced  that, 
without  her  continual  solicitude  and  efforts  for  the  guidance 
of  her  sons  and  daughters,  they  would  be  much  exposed  to 
the  influence  of  their  Protestant  relatives,  who  were  nume- 
rous and  wealthy;  and  for  this  reason  she  could  never  en- 
tertain the  idea  of  assuming  obligations  that  would  be  in- 
compatible with  her  previous  and  paramount  duty  as  a  mo- 
ther. Writing  to  a  friend  on  this  subject,  she  says,  "  By 
the  law  of  the  Church  I  so  much  love,  I  could  never  take  an 
obligation  which  interfered  with  my  duties  to  the  children, 
except  I  had  an  independent  provision  and  guardian  for 
them,  which  the  whole  world  could  not  supply,  to  my  judg- 
ment of  a  mother's  duty."  Under  the  circumstances  in 
which  Mother  Seton  was  placed,  it  was  a  matter  of  serious 
.•onsidention,  pending  the  discussion  of  the  rules  and  con- 
nitut'ums  to  be  adopted  by  the  sisters,  whether  she  ought 
not  to  confine  herself  to  a  lit.er.-iry  institution  independent 
of  St.  .Joseph's  community.  There  seems  to  have  been  a 
difference  of  opinion  among  the  pious  and  learned  indivi- 
26  T 


290  THF    LIFE     0V 

duals  who  were  consulted  upon  the  subject;  but  Mother 
Seton,  in  this  as  in  every  other  emergency  regarding  the 
happiness  of  herself  and  those  around  her,  submitted  all  to 
the  decision  of  Archbishop  Carroll,  her  constant  and  intimate 
adviser.  In  a  letter  to  him,  dated  September  5,  1811,  she 
thus  confides  the  case  to  his  superior  wisdom,  with  senti- 
ments of  entire  resignation  in  regard  to  its  issue.  '•'  You, 
my  most  venerated  father,  know  every  thing  that  has  passed, 
from  my  first  union  with  this  house  until  the  present  mo- 
ment,— temptations,  trials,  &c.  &c. ;  and  now  I  cast  all  at  the 
feet  of  the  Adored,  placing  every  consideration  and  all  my 
concerns  in  your  hands,  as  His  representative,  to  decide  my 
fate.  The  rules  proposed  are  nearly  such  as  we  had  in  the 
original  manuscript  of  the  sisters  in  France.  I  never  had  a 
thought  discordant  with  them,  as  far  as  my  poor  power  may  go 
in  fulfilling  them.  The  constitutions  proposed  have  been 
discussed  by  our  Reverend  Director,  and  I  find  he  makes  some 
observations  on  my  situation  relative  to  them ;  but  surely  an 
individual  is  not  to  be  considered  where  a  public  good  is  in 
question ;  and  you  know  I  would  gladly  make  every  sacri- 
fice you  think  consistent  with  my  first  and  inseparable  obli- 
gations as  a  mother.  I  shall  beg  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Du- 
bois  to  hide  nothing  from  you  of  my  dispositions  and  situa- 
tion as  he  knows  them,  and  certainly,  as  far  as  I  know  my- 
self, they  are  known  to  him  as  to  God."  The  answer  of  the 
archbishop  to  this  communication  shows  what  great  import- 
ance he  attached  to  the  subject  of  it,  and  how  earnestly  he 
applied  himself,  in  the  examination  of  the  rules  by  which 
St.  Joseph's  House  was  to  be  governed,  to  make  such  ar- 
rangements as  would  best  promote  the  interests  of  the  so- 
ciety at  large  and  of  each  member  individually.  In  regard 
to  Mother  Seton,  he  thought  that  her  particular  situation 
required  special  rules  of  guidance  in  her  connection  with 
the  sisterhood.  After  having  examined  the  constitution! 


ME8.   E.   A.    SETON  291 

and  rules  submitted  to  him  by  the  superior,  Rev.  Mr.  Du- 
bois, he  addressed  the  following  letter  to  Mother  Seton  :  — 


September  11,  1811. 

"  HONORED  AND  DEAR  MADAM:  — 

"  Shall  I  confess  that  I  am  deeply  humiliated  at  being 
called  on  to  give  a  final  sanction  to  a  rule  of  conduct  and 
plan  of  religious  government  by  which  it  is  intended  to 
promote  and  preserve,  among  many  beloved  spouses  of 
Jesus  Christ,  a  spirit  of  solid  and  sublime  religious  perfec- 
tion ?  When  I  remember  how  many  prayers,  fastings,  watch- 
ings,  &c.  were  employed  by  the  holy  founders  of  religious 
institutions  to  obtain  light  and  assistance  from  the  Holy 
Ghost  to  render  their  constitutions  and  rules  adapted  to 
the  objects  of  their  pious  zeal,  I  am  so  sensible  of  my  un- 
worthiness  that  I  would  certainly  decline  from  the  task,  if 
I  did  not  entertain  a  confidence  that  it  may  please  God  to 
bestow  a  blessing  on  the  ministerial  acts  of  the  ministers  of 
religion  whom  he  has  constituted,  to  which  blessing  they 
are  not  entitled  if  only  their  private  worth  were  considered. 
Under  this  impression,  therefore,  I  shall  and  do  now  give 
my  approbation  to  the  constitutions  exhibited  to  me  by  Mr. 
Dubois,  after  they  shall  receive  the  alterations  suggested  tc 
and  by  him.  You  will  know  from  him  what  these  are;  and 
it  affords  me  great  pleasure  to  learn  that  all  the  material 
pointy  }t  which  a  difference  of  opinion  was  thought  to  exist, 
have  been  given  up  by  Messrs,  de  St.  Sulpice  in  their  last 
deliberations.  If  they  had  not,  I  do  not  think  that  I  should 
have  approved  the  constitutions  as  modified  in  the  copy 
thereof  which  has  been  before  me.  Mr.  Dubois  has  not  ex- 
hibited the  rules  of  detail  and  particular  duties  of  the  sis- 
ters ;  but  these  being  matters  of  which  yourselves  and  your 
father-superior  will  be  the  best  judges,  I  commit  you  and 
them  with  the  utmost  confidence  to  the  guidance  of  the  Di- 


292  THE    LIFE    OF 

vine  Spirit.  I  am  exceedingly  anxious  that  every  allowance 
shall  be  made,  not  only  to  the  sisters  generally,  but  to  each 
one  in  particular,  which  can  serve  to  give  quiet  to  their  con- 
sciences, provided  that  this  be  done  without  endangering 
the  harmony  of  the  community;  and  therefore  it  must  be- 
come a  matter  of  regulation.  I  am  rejoiced  likewise  to 
know  that  the  idea  of  any  other  connection  than  of  charity 
is  abandoned  between  the  daughters  of  St.  Joseph  and  the 
Society  of  St.  Sulpice; — I  mean  that  their  interests,  admi- 
nistration, and  government,  are  not  to  be  the  same,  or,  at  least, 
under  the  same  control.  This  removes  many  inconveniences 
for  you  and  for  Messrs,  of  St.  Sulpice.  No  one  of  that  body 
but  your  immediate  superior,  residing  near  you,  will  have  any 
share  in  the  government  or  concerns  of  the  sisters,  except 
(on  very  rare  and  uncommon  occasions)  the  superior  of  the 
Seminary  of  Baltimore,  but  not  his  society.  This,  however, 
is  to  be  understood  so  as  not  to  exclude  the  essential  super- 
intendence and  control  of  the  archbishop  over  every  commu- 
nity in  his  diocese.  Your  own  peculiar  situation  required 
special  consideration,  on  account  of  your  dear  children.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  only  general  principles  for  you  and  your 
family's  case  should  be  now  established,  grounded  on  justice 
and  gratitude;  and  that  special  considerations  should  be  de- 
ferred v  to  the  period  when  the  circumstances  may  require 
them.  At  present,  too  many  persons  would  be  consulted, 
and,  among  them,  some  who  are  incompetent  to  judge;  and 
even  they  who  are  most  competent  might  find  their  most 
equitable  provisions  rendered  useless  by  the  changes  pro- 
duced in  a  few  yea.-s.  Mr.  Dubois  has  been  very  explicit 
in  communicating,  I  believe,  whatever  it  was  proper  for  me 
to  know.  On  my  side,  it  has  been  my  endeavor,  when  I 
read  the  constitutions,  to  consult,  in  the  first  place,  the  in- 
dividual  happiness  of  your  dear  sisters,  and,  consequently, 
your  own;  secondly,  to  render  their  plan  of  life  useful  to  reli« 


MBS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  293 

gion  and  the  public;  thirdly,  to  confine  the  administration  of 
your  own  affairs  and  the  internal  and  domestic  government, 
as  much  as  possible,  to  your  own  institutions  once  adopted, 
and  within  your  own  walls.  Your  superior  or  confessor 
alone  need  be  informed  or  consulted  in  matters  where  the 
mother  and  her  council  need  his  advice.  I  shall  congratu- 
late you  and  your  beloved  sisters  when  the  constitution  is 
adopted.  It  will  be  like  freeing  you  from  a  state  in  which 
it  was  difficult  to  walk  straight,  as  you  had  no  certain  way 
in  which  to  proceed.  In  the  mean  time,  assure  yourself  and 
them  of  my  utmost  solicitude  for  your  advancement  in  the 
service  and  favor  of  God;  of  my  reliance  on  your  prayers; 
of  mine  for  your  prosperity  in  the  important  duty  of  education, 
which  will  and  must  long  be  your  principal,  and  will  always 
be  your  partial,  employment.  A  century  at  least  will  pass  be- 
fore the  exigencies  and  habits  of  this  country  will  require, 
and  hardly  admit,  of  the  charitable  exercises  toward  the  sick 
sufficient  to  employ  any  number  of  the  sisters  out  of  our 
largest  cities;  and  therefore  they  must  consider  the  business 
of  education  as  a  laborious,  charitable,  and  permanent  object 
of  their  religious  duty. 

"  I  am,  with  esteem  and  respect,  honored  and  dear  madam, 
your  servant  in  Christ, 

« J.,  Ab'p  of  Bait." 

Agreeably  to  the  views  expressed  in  this  communication 
of  Archbishop  Carroll,  Mother  Seton's  relations  with  her 
children  were  specially  provided  for  in  the  constitutions 
which  were  about  to  be  adopted.  In  the  article  which  re- 
quired widows  who  apply  for  admission  into  the  sisterhood 
to  have  previously  arranged  the  temporal  concerns  of  their 
children,  so  as  to  be  free  from  all  future  molestation  on  this 
point,  an  exception  was  made  in  favor  of  Mother  Seton,  who 
was  authorized,  even  after  having  taken  her  vows,  to  watch 
over  her  children's  welfare,  and  to  administer  her  and  their 
26» 


294  TE2    LIFE    0V 

property, — both  that  which  was  then  in  her  hands  and  what 
ever  should  afterward  be  acquired.  It  was  also  provided, 
in  her  favor,  that,  in  case  she  should  be  elected  for  a  third 
term  to  the  charge  of  mother,  and  the  superiors  of  the  so- 
ciety should  deem  her  continuance  in  office  advisable  for  the 
public  good  and  on  account  of  her  situation  with  her  children, 
her  election  might  be  ratified.  By  these  wise  regulations 
the  valuable  services  of  Mother  Seton  were  secured  to  th« 
rising  community  of  St.  Joseph's,  while  she  herself  enjoyed 
in  its  peaceful  seclusion  all  the  advantages  of  religious  re- 
tirement, without  relinquishing  the  claims  which  five  beloved 
children  held  upon  her  maternal  care. 

The  rules  and  constitutions  having  been  maturely  con- 
sidered by  the  superior,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  in  conjunction 
with  the  superior  of  St.  Mary's  Seminary  in  Baltimore,  and 
the  Most  Reverend  Archbishop,  they  were  submitted  to  the 
sisters  of  St.  J  oseph's  House,  in  order  that  any  proper  represen- 
tation might  be  made  in  relation  to  them,  previous  to  their 
final  ratification.  The  sisters  were  informed  on  this  occa- 
sion that  they  were  under  no  obligation  of  abiding  by  these 
rules  except  of  their  own  choice ;  that  they  were  free  to  ac- 
cept them  or  to  retire  from  the  community.  All,  however, 
were  invited  to  remain,  notwithstanding  any  infirmities  they 
might  have  contracted  since  their  entrance  into  the  house ; 
and,  having  been  requested  to  express  their  sentiment  of 
approval  by  raising  their  hand,  all,  with  one  exception,  d(  ter- 
mined  to  embrace  the  rules  as  they  had  been  arranged  by 
the  superiors  and  presiding  officers  of  the  community.  At 
this  time,  (January,  1812,)  there  were  twenty  sisters  in  the 
institution.  Immediately  after  this,  the  constitutions  were 
again  referred  to  the  archbishop  and  the  superior  of  St 
Sulpice  in  Baltimore,  who  gave  them  a  definitive  confirma- 
tion, (January  17,)  and  returned  them  for  the  observance 
of  the  sisters.  Mother  Seton  welcomed  them  as  a  precious 


MRS.    E     A.    8ETON.  290 

deposite,  to  be  sacredly  cherished  by  her  and  her  com- 
panions, and  she  never  ceased  to  show  her  love  and  vene- 
ration for  these  holy  regulations/"' 

The  objects  of  the  society  being  now  clearly  defined,  and 
the  spirit  of  the  rule,  with  the  form  of  government,  being 
distinctly  understood,  it  only  remained  for  the  sisters  to 
enter  upon  the  practice  of  what  had  been  so  wisely  matured 
for  the  welfare  of  the  institution  and  the  sanctification  of  its 
members.  With  this  view,  as  soon  as  circumstances  per- 
mitted, an  election  was  held  for  four  officers,  to  fill  the  places 
of  Mother,  Assistant-Mother,  Treasurer,  and  Procuratrix. 
In  a  letter  to  Mother  Seton  at  this  time,  Archbishop  Carroll 
did  not  fail  to  suggest  that  the  election  should  be  conducted 
"  with  that  spirit  of  charity  and  humility  and  entire  submis- 
sion to  its  event,  and  with  that  preparation  by  prayer  for  the 
guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  would  insure  constant 
tranquillity  and  regularity."  Such  were  the  dispositions  in- 
dicated in  the  constitutions  for  this  important  proceeding ;  and 
the  fervent  souls  who  then  composed  St.  Joseph's  commu- 
nity were  fully  sensible  of  the  duty  that  devolved  upon 
them.  As  to  Mother  Seton,  the  general  opinion  and  desire 
of  the  sisterhood  having  marked  her  out  as  the  person  who 
would  be  called  to  the  highest  rank  in  the  government,  she 
could  not  conceal  the  alarm  and  diffidence  with  which  she 
anticipated  such  a  result.  She  had  hitherto,  indeed,  pre- 
sided over  the  institution ;  but  now  that  the  affairs  of  the  house 
were  to  assume  a  greater  regularity,  and  its  inmates  were  to 
take  a  new  flight,  as  it  were,  toward  Christian  perfection,  she 
felt  her  inability  to  discharge  the  duties  of  superior,  and  re- 
quired encouragement  to  undertake  them.  On  this  occasion, 
one  of  her  companions  contributed  much  by  her  excellent 
advice  to  tranquillize  her  mind.  She  observed  to  her  that 
the  qualifications  of  a  superior  are  only  those  of  a  Christian 
parent;  that  in  both  prudence  should  be  combined  with  judg 


296  THE  LIFE  or 

ment,  firmness  with  moderation.  "  Be  a  mild,  patient,  and 
firm  mother,"  she  continued,  "and  you  need  not  tremble 
under  the  burden  of  superiority.  Jesus  can  never  give  you  a 
task  above  your  courage,  strength,  or  ability.  Don't  let  un- 
easiness and  fear  appear  so  plain  to  the  weak.  You  must  at 
least  be  the  moon,  if  the  sun  is  too  bright  and  too  dignified 
a  character.  The  more  gentle  and  modest  light  will  suit  oui 
valley,  in  the  growing  fervor  of  your  little  company.  I  dc 
not  want  you  to  dart  the  rays  of  the  great  St.  Theresa ; 
times,  places,  and  circumstances,  change  the  order  of  this 
life." 

As  the  number  of  sisters  at  St.  Joseph's  was  small,  and 
they  had  not  been  long  enough  in  the  house  to  fulfil  all  the 
conditions  required  by  the  constitutions  for  admission  into 
the  sisterhood  and  the  enjoyment  of  its  privileges,  most  of 
the  regulations  regarding  the  election  of  the  principal  offi- 
cers were  at  this  time  dispensed  with.  It  was  required, 
however,  that  all  who  voted  should  have  been  at  least  one 
year  in  the  community.  It  was  provided  also  that  the  four 
officers  should  be  appointed  on  four  successive  days,  and 
their  respective  terms  of  service  distributed  so  as  to  prevent 
the  election  of  the  mother  and  that  of  the  other  officers  from 
recurring  the  same  year.  Having  proceeded  to  the  election, 
the  sisters  chose  the  following  persons  to  conduct  the  affairs 
of  the  institution : — Mrs.  Eliza  Ann  Seton,  as  Mother-Supe- 
rior; Mrs.  Rose  White,  Assistant;  Miss  Catherine  Mullen, 
Treasurer;  Miss  Ann  Gruber,  Procuratrix. 

To  awaken  a  due  spirit  of  fervor  in  the  practice  of  the 
legulations  adopted  by  the  sisters,  they  performed  the  ex- 
ercises of  a  spiritual  retreat,  which  commenced  on  the  2d  of 
February.  They  were  at  the  same  time  informed  that  a  fur« 
ther  novitiate  of  one  year  would  be  allowed  every  one  then 
in  the  community,  in  order  to  try  her  vocation;  after  which 
•he  could  either  leave  the  institution  or  bind  herself  by  tha 


MRS.    E.    A.    6  ETON  297 

prescribed  vows.  No  particular  form  of  habit,  to  be  worn 
by  the  sisters,  was  determined  by  the  constitutions :  it  waa 
a  matter  left  for  decision  at  some  future  period,  when  the 
community  would  be  more  numerous.  Until  then,  they 
were  directed  to  wear  the  costume  which  had  been  used 
from  the  commencement  of  the  sisterhood,  and  to  which  we 
have  already  referred.  It  may  be  remarked,  however,  that 
for  some  years  neither  the  form  nor  material  of  the  commu- 
nity-dress had  a  very  definite  character.  Some  weeks  after 
the  sisters  were  established  in  the  valley,  the  black  cap  was 
introduced  and  afterward  retained.  The  color  of  the  dress, 
as  well  as  the  material,  was  not  very  uniform.  The  straitened 
funds  of  the  house  required  the  observance  of  a  very  rigid 
economy,  and  for  this  reason  habits  for  the  sisters  were  fre- 
quently made  from  the  articles  of  clothing  which  they  had 
brought  with  them  to  the  institution.  In  the  year  1812, 
one  piece  of  linsey,  pepper-and-salt  color,  was  purchased  for 
this  purpose,  and  the  habits  manufactured  from  this  stuff 
were  considered  by  the  members  of  the  house  as  remarkably 
genteel,  compared  with  others  then  in  use.  We  may  judge, 
however,  that  they  scarcely  reached  the  proper  standard,  from 
a  humorous  observation  of  Bishop  Cheverus,  who,  seeing  one 
of  the  sisters  in  her  linsey  habit,  inquired  of  Mother  Seton 
if  she  was  "under  penance."  At  a  later  period,  when  the 
income  of  the  establishment  had  increased,  black  bombazette 
was  introduced  for  the  habits  of  the  sisters ;  but  during  tho 
war  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  difficulty  of  procuring  this  article,  flannel  was 
substituted  in  its  place,  and  was  used  afterward,  during 
winter  and  summer. 

By  the  introduction  of  a  settled  rule  of  life,  Mother  Se- 
ton had  the  consolation  of  seeing  the  community  under  her 
charge  acquire  a  still  greater  prospect  of  permanency  and 
usefulness,  which  was  confirmed  in  no  small  degree  by 


298  THE    LIFE     OF 

the  fervor  of  her  spiritual  daughters  and  the  numerous  ap- 
plications for  admission  into  the  sisterhood.  During  the 
course  of  the  year  allowed  for  the  trial  of  the  rules,  and  aa 
a  term  of  further  probation  for  those  who  had  already  en- 
tered the  community,  not  less  than  ten  ladies  were  received, 
many  of  whom  were  afterward  distinguished  ornaments  of 
their  profession.  But,  among  the  bright  examples  which  the 
sisterhood  presented  of  zeal  for  the  acquirement  of  religion! 
perfection,  there  was  one  that  afforded  Mother  Seton  a  pe- 
culiar subject  of  joy  and  thanksgiving.  In  the  society 
around  her,  her  eldest  daughter  Annina  was  conspicuous. 
This  young  lady,  from  her  earliest  youth,  had  been  remark- 
able for  the  beautiful  qualities  of  her  mind  and  heart,  which, 
with  her  personal  charms,  acquired  greater  lustre  in  propor- 
tion as  she  advanced  to  a  maturer  age.  While  she  resided 
in  Baltimore  with  her  mother,  previous  to  her  removal  to 
Emmettsburg,  although  but  a  child  in  her  fourteenth  year, 
she  was  the  admiration  of  all  who  knew  her,  more  for  her 
discretion  and  propriety  of  behavior  than  even  for  her 
beauty.  A  year  later  she  won  the  affections  of  a  young 
gentleman  of  Guadaloupe,  of  great  wealth,  superior  talents, 
and  finished  education;  and  such  were  the  advantages 
which  this  union  seemed  to  promise  that  it  was  readily  ap- 
proved by  Mother  Seton  and  the  friends  of  her  family. 
Shortly  after  the  match  had  been  arranged,  the  favorite  of 
Annina  set  out  for  his  native  place,  to  make  the  necessary 
preparations  for  his  settlement  in  the  United  States  j  but 
the  opposition  whi  :h  he  met  with  from  a  mother,  his  only 
parent,  thwarted  his  views,  and  finally  succeeded  in  prevail- 
ing over  his  plighted  faith.  Mother  Seton,  throughout  thif 
whole  affair,  conducted  herself  as  a  wise  and  truly  Christian 
parent.  Although  she  would  have  preferred  not  to  see  hei 
daughter,  at  so  early  an  age,  absorbed  in  the  romance  of 
routhful  passion,  she  thought  it  better  to  aid  her  with  her 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  209 

sympathy  and  love  than  to  oppose  her  inclinations.  Her 
prospect  in  life,  so  far  as  human  calculations  could  discern, 
was  indeed  all  that  could  flatter  the  heart  of  a  mother;  yet 
she  trusted  not  to  the  appearances  of  this  world,  but  com- 
mitted the  whole  matter  to  the  good  providence  of  God,  that 
he  might  bring  it  to  the  most  favorable  issue.  Her  prayer* 
were  not  in  vain.  The  Almighty  permitted  that  a  union 
which  would  have  drawn  her  eldest  child  into  the  vortex  of 
worldly  cares  and  temptations  should  never  take  place,  be- 
cause he  desired  himself  to  be  her  only  spouse,  and  called 
her  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  special  graces.  "  Oh,  how  good 
has  the  Source  of  all  good  been  to  her  I"  exclaimed  Mother 
Seton,  in  alluding  to  her  escape  from  the  ties  that  had 
bound  her.  Her  daughter  viewed  the  result  of  her  engage- 
ment in  the  same  light.  Although  she  was  prepared  to  fulfil 
her  promises  with  the  utmost  fidelity,  maturer  reflection  had 
convinced  her  of  the  superior  happiness  which  they  enjoy 
who  make  God  the  sole  object  of  their  affections;  and  when 
she  learned  that  she  was  free  from  the  bonds  she  had  con- 
tracted, she  rejoiced,  and  thanked  God  for  the  favor  he  had 
bestowed  upon  her.  Availing  herself  of  the  facilities  which 
the  blessed  retirement  of  St.  Joseph's  Valley  afforded,  she 
made  rapid  progress  in  the  formation  of  her  character,  and 
in  the  practice  of  the  Christian  virtues.  When  absent  from 
the  valley,  she  sighed  to  return  to  its  peaceful  shades,  where 
she  could  devote  herself  more  faithfully  to  her  religious 
duties.  At  one  time,  being  on  a  visit  to  Baltimore,  although 
she  resided  with  an  amiable  and  virtuous  family,  she  wrote 
earnestly  to  her  mother  to  send  for  her,  that  she  might 
be  free  from  the  distractions  and  temptations  to  which  a 
secular  life  exposed  her.  Her  language  is  that  of  the  most 
fervent  and  unaffected  piety.  In  one  of  her  letters  she 
gays: — "The  waving  poplars  before  uiy  window  is  all  that 
looks  like  home;  but,  looking  through  them,  I  see  no  pure 


300  THE    LIFE    Of 

blue  skies  or  peaceful  mountains;  only  smoking  chimneys  and 
high  brick  buildings.  Oh,  my  mother,  how  hard  to  be  good 
in  Baltimore  I"  Many  were  the  secret  acts  of  mortification 
performed  by  this  heroic  girl.  While  yet  among  the  num- 
ber of  pupils,  she  observed,  as  faithfully  as  any  of  the  sis- 
ters, the  rules  and  customs  of  the  community; — rising  at  four 
o'clock  in  winter  and  summer,  and  repairing  to  the  chapel, 
where,  without  fire,  even  in  the  severest  weather,  she  would 
spend  an  hour  in  prayer  and  meditation  before  the  offering 
of  the  holy  sacrifice.  After  mass,  she  assembled  her  favorite 
class  of  the  village  children,  whom  she  delighted  to  teach, 
but  particularly  to  form  their  young  hearts  to  the  love  and 
practice  of  piety.  The  young  ladies  of  the  academy,  struck 
by  the  example  of  her  many  virtues,  presented  as  they  were 
in  so  attractive  a  form,  were  stimulated  to  the  emulation  of 
her  conduct;  and  some  of  them  associated  themselves  under 
her  direction,  for  the  purpose  of  being  animated  in  the  great 
work  of  their  sanctification.  This  edifying  band,  consisting 
of  ten  or  more  of  the  elder  girls  in  the  academy,  was  called 
a  decury,  and  was  governed  by  particular  regulations,  tend- 
ing to  the  spiritual  advancement  of  its  members.  Frequent 
acts  of  penance  were  performed  by  them ;  and  every  even- 
ing, when  they  assembled,  each  one  drew  by  lot  a  virtue  to 
be  practised.  Anna  Seton  was  the  life  and  soul  of  this 
pious  company ;  and  the  young  ladies,  with  a  model  like 
her  before  their  eyes,  vied  with  each  other  in  the  perform- 
ance of  duty.  Her  very  appearance  was  an  incentive  to 
virtue ;  for  her  intellectual  and  winning  features,  together 
with  every  action,  not  only  bsspoke  the  superiority  of  her 
mind,  but,  as  a  bright  mirror,  reflected  with  redoubled  lustre 
and  with  powerful  effect  the  beauty  of  Christian  piety.  She 
had  the  happy  talent  of  accommodating  her  words  and 
counsels  to  the  capacity  and  wants  of  those  to  whom  she 
addressed  herself.  The  following  instruction  which  she 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  801 

gave  to  a  child  who  was  preparing  for  her  first  communion 
is  remarkable  for  its  simplicity,  and  for  the  zeal  which  it 
breathes  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  her  neighbor : — 

"DEAR  THERESA: — 

"  I  only  write  to  you  to  put  you  in  mind  of  the  great 
action  you  are  going  about;  and  do,  my  dear  love,  try  to  pre- 
pare your  heart  to  receive  our  blessed  Lord.  Oh,  think  how 
good  he  is  to  you  in  granting  you  such  a  favor!  Spend, 
every  day  till  Christmas,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the  chapel, 
to  offer  your  heart  to  our  blessed  Lord  and  beg  him  to  pre- 
pare it.  You  know  you  cannot  do  it  yourself.  Offer  your- 
self to  the  Blessed  Virgin;  beg  her  to  make  you  her  child. 
Pray  our  dear  Lord  to  be  born  in  your  heart,  as  he  was  in 
the  stable  of  Bethlehem  for  our  salvation.  Oh,  remember, 
Theresa,  you  can  make  your  first  communion  but  once :  try 
to  make  it  well,  then.  Think,  my  love,  how  happy  you  will 
be  if  you  receive  him  for  your  salvation.  Oh,  when  death 
comes,  how  you  will  wish  that  you  had  made  it  well !  but  it 
will  be  too  late  then,  and  how  dreadful  if  you  have  made  it 
ill !  Take  care :  throw  yourself,  in  spirit,  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross;  say  to  our  Lord  you  are  a  weak  child,  you  can  do  no- 
thing of  yourself.  Beg  him  to  send  the  holy  spirit  of  his  love 
in  your  heart,  to  consume  it  with  this  blessed  fire;  beg  him 
to  enlighten  your  faith,  that  you  may  receive  him  worthily. 
Oh,  how  happy  would  I  think  myself  if  1  could  again  mak« 
my  first  communion  I  I  would  think  I  could  never  pro- 
Dare  myself  enough.  In  the  course  of  the  day,  while  you 
we  at  your  lessons,  sometimes  think,  '  Oh,  how  happy  am  I ! 
Jesus,  my  dear  Jesus,  is  coming  to  me.  0  dearest  Lord, 
prepare  me  for  yourself.'  Try  to  serve  him,  and  make  reso- 
lutions to  do  your  best.  Try,  when  you  think  any  thing 
will  make  you  angry,  to  reflect, '  Is  this  preparing  to  receive 
my  Jesus?'  When  you  are  at  your  prayers,  keep  your  head 


302  THE    LIFE    OF 

bowed  down  and  your  hands  joined,  and  do  not  look  about 
the  chapel,  because  you  need  not  think  our  Lord  will  listen 
to  your  prayers  when  you  do  not  even  think  of  what  you 
are  saying  to  him.  .  Oh,  my  love,  if  you  knew  what  I 
feel  for  you  and  the  girls  who  are  to  make  their  first  com- 
munion !  All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  beg  Him  to  prepare  your 
heart  and  to  give  you  a  true  sense  of  what  you  are  going  to 
do.  I  know  I  need  say  nothing  if  our  Lord  pleases  to  make 
you  his;  all  I  wish  is  to  put  you  in  mind,  because  I  would  be 
so  happy  to  think  you  would  be  forever  his.  Pray  for  me, 
dear  love  j  beg  our  dear  Lord  to  make  me  his  and  to  teach 
me  how  to  love  him." 

The  beauty  of  this  letter  consists  chiefly  in  its  adaptation 
to  the  simplicity  of  the  child  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  who 
could  not  have  understood  its  excellent  lessons  had  they 
been  couched  in  any  other  language.  The  absent  pupils 
of  St.  Joseph's,  as  well  as  those  in  the  institution,  were  ob- 
jects of  Anna  Seton's  virtuous  zeal.  They  who  had  been 
her  companions  recalled  with  grateful  emotions  her  example 
and  conversation,  which  had  produced  impressions  equally 
profound  and  salutary.  They  remembered  with  joy  the 
happy  influence  she  had  exerted  over  them,  and  thanked 
God  for  the  privilege  of  having  formed  her  acquaintance. 
On  her  part,  she  sought  by  the  wisest  admonitions  to  cherish 
and  cultivate  the  precious  seed  which  had  been  sown  in  their 
hearts,  and  to  prevent  it  from  being  dissipated  by  the  storms 
of  temptation  so  common  in  the  world.  Writing  to  a  young 
friend  who  was  called  to  brave  its  dangers,  she  thus  encou- 
rages and  directs  her  for  the  conflict : — "  You  say  you  wish 
to  be  resigned  to  live  in  the  wicked  world,  as  you  call  it; 

but,  dearest  H ,  you  have  many  opportunities  of  serving 

and  pleasing  our  dear  Lord  in  it.  Make  use  of  them  :  it 
w  for  them  you  will  be  called  to  account.  Here  is  the  first 


MRS    E.    A.    8ETON.  803 

day  of  Advent,  and  we  are  chiefly  to  keep  in  mind  the  judg- 
ment-day :  never  cease  praying,  my  sweet  friend,  that  we 
may  meet  one  another  joyfully  in  that  day  of  terrors.  When 
we  think  of  the  eternity  which  follows,  we  may  well  tremble 
How  good  a  use  should  we  make  of  the  few  moments  which 
our  God  gives  us  here,  to  gain  a  happy  one  !  Be  not  care- 
less. If  those  moments  are  lost,  eternity  will  also  he  lost. 
Wheii  we  meet  there,  you  may  thank  me  for  reminding  you, 
though  I  think  so  little  myself  of  that  awful  day  so  soon  to 
come.  Meet  me  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  next  Sunday,  at 
eight  in  the  morning.  Pray  for  your  Anna."  In  another 
letter  to  her  sister,  she  says : — "  Come,  we  must  walk  on 
resolutely,  though  the  way  is  so  rough  and  strewn  with 
thorns.  Don't  forget  to  say  the  prayers  we  joined  in  for  a 
happy  death.  You  know  we  ought  to  take  a  little  trouble 
for  that  which  should  be  the  concern  of  our  whole  life" 
Well  could  this  fervent  young  lady  admonish  others  of  the 
"one  thing  necessary;"  for  she  made  it  the  continual  object 
of  her  own  thoughts  and  efforts.  Eternity  was  the  great 
consideration  that  occupied  her  mind  and  formed  the  inces- 
sant aim  to  which  all  her  actions  were  directed.  Whatever 
she  said,  whatever  she  wrote,  all  turned  to  one  point, — to  be 
prepared  for  death,  that,  like  the  wise  virgins  in  the  gospel, 
she  might  be  always  ready,  with  her  lamp  trimmed,  to  meet 
the  heavenly  Bridegroom.  Such  was  Anna  Seton,  a  model 
of  piety,  regularity,  and  modesty  to  her  companions,  and  a 
most  edifying  example  of  virtue  to  the  sisters  themselves. 
To  promote  her  spiritual  advancement  and  consecrate  her- 
self more  perfectly  to  the  service  of  God,  she  applied  for 
admission  into  the  sisterhood,  which  was  readily  granted ; 
but  this  fervent  soul  was  already  ripe  for  heaven,  and  was 
Boon  to  he  called  to  the  eternal  rewards  for  which  she  had 
BO  diligently  labored.  Toward  the  end  of  September,  1811, 
she  was  taken  with  chills  and  fever,  and  pain  in  the  breant 


304  THE    LIFE    Of 

and  side,  the  consequence  of  exposure  to  the  rain,  and  in  a 
short  time  she  was  reduced  to  the  necessit7  of  confinement 
to  her  room  and  bed.  In  addition  to  tli3se  symptoms,  a 
violent  cough  supervened,  which  left  no  doubt  as  to  the 
nature  of  her  complaint,  which  proved  to  be  a  confirmed 
phthisis.  During  her  long  illness,  the  virtues  of  Anna 
Seton  shone  forth  with  increased  splendor,  particularly  hei 
patience,  mortification,  disengagement  from  creatures,  and 
conformity  to  the  will  of  God.  Her  beautiful  sentiments 
and  glowing  fervor  have  thus  been  traced  by  the  pen  of  her 
mother,  in  the  form  of  dialogue  and  narrative : — 

'*  When  first  we  found  her  complaint  obstinate,  speaking 
of  her  danger,  she  said  : — '  I  never  can  believe  that,  after  all 
our  dear  Lord  has  done  for  me  in  this  house,  and  attaching 
me  so  much  to  it,  he  will  ever  let  me  leave  it.  He  knows 
I  always  will  be  his  and  his  alone.'  'Well,  but,  my  Anna, 
if  poor  mother  should  die,  or  be  no  longer  Mother, — if 
strangers  should  fill  her  place, — could  you  have  courage  to 
stay?'  'Why,  dearest  mother,  if  another  was  in  your  place, 
they  would  not  hinder  me  from  serving  our  Lord,  when  they 
saw  I  did  my  best ;  but  if  our  Dearest*  will  take  n?e  with- 
out trying  me,  I  am  very  willing.  But  oh,  how  I  have 
abused  his  graces  !  If  only  I  had  made  use  of  the  oppor- 
tunities he  has  given  me  here  !  If  the  girls  di4  but  know 
how  sorry  I  am  for  every  vexation  I  have  given  the  Bisters, 
and  every  fault  I  have  committed  against  silence  at  table, 
and  every  bad  example  !  Oh,  if  I  get  better,  I  will  be  dif- 
ferent in  every  respect.'  When  it  was  proposed,  with  a 
view  of  relieving  her,  to  put  a  seton  in  her  side,  she  ob- 
served, '  Yes,  my  mother,  I  agree  to  it,  though  I  do  not  be- 
lieve it  will  do  my  body  any  good  j  but  let  me  pay  iay 
penance  for  so  often  drawing  in  my  waist  to  look  suiJL;  and 

•  That  is,  our  Lord.     It  was  %  com  men  expression  at  St.  Joseph's. 


MRS.    E.   A.    SETON.  80& 

imitate  the  looks  of  my  companions.  Let  the  ribs  now 
draw  with  pain  for  having  drawn  with  vanity.'  When  the 
operation  was  postponed,  'Oh,  no,'  she  said;  'to-day  is 
Friday  :  let  it  be  done  to-day ;  it  is  the  best  day,  my  dear 
Lord.'  Through  all  the  painful  dressing  of  the  wound,  and 
drawing  the  cord  every  day,  she  gave  no  other  expression 
than  the  lifting  of  her  streaming  eyes,  and  the  exclama- 
tion, '  My  dear  Lord !'  Sometimes  she  would  say,  when 
taking  her  powders,  '  My  mother,  why  would  you  keep  me  ? 
If  my  life  is  prolonged  a  little,  it  must  be  done  at  last.' 
She  once  observed,  '  Every  one  will  think  in  Baltimore  my 
ill  health  is  occasioned  by  disappointment,  that  is,  morti- 
fication ;  Vat  our  dear  Lord  knows  how  much  I  have  thanked 
him  for  my  escape ;  he  knows  how  I  dreaded  being  obliged 
to  fulfil  my  foolish  promises.'  To  her  former  companions 
she  wrote  : — '  I  am  suffering  now  in  earnest,  not  as  we  used 
to  do  on  our  knees,  when  meditating  the  passion  of  our  dear 
Lord ;  we  used  to  wish  to  suffer  with  him,  but,  when  called 
to  prove  the  wish,  how  different  is  the  reality  from  the 
imagination  !  Let  my  weakness  be  a  lesson  to  you.'  When 
I  half  reproached  her  for  her  little  care  of  her  health,  rising 
at  the  first  bell  and  even  being  on  the  watch  to  ring  it  the 
moment  the  clock  struck,  washing  at  the  pump  in  the  se- 
verest weather,  often  eating  in  the  refectory  what  sickened 
her  stomach,  'Ah,  dear  mother!'  she  replied,  coloring 
deeply,  as  if  she  was  wounding  humility,  'if  our  Lord  called 
me  up  to  meditate,  was  I  wrong  to  go  ?  If  I  washed  at  the 
tump,  did  not  others  more  delicate  do  it  ?  If  I  ate  what  I 
lid  not  like,  was  it  not  proper,  since  it  is  but  a  common 
Christian  act  to  control  my  appetite  ?  Besides,  what  would 
my  example  have  been  to  my  decury,  if  I  had  done  other- 
wise in  any  of  those  cases  ?  Indeed,  I  have  given  too  much 
bad  example  without  that.  Dearest  Lord,  pardon  me.'  " 
What  the  feelings  of  Mother  Seton  were  in  witnessing 
26* 


306  THE  LIFE  or 

the  sufferings  and  rapid  decline  of  her  daughter  can  be 
better  imagined  than  described.  To  see  so  gifted  and  be- 
loved a  child,  in  whom  youth,  beauty,  talents,  piety,  all 
combined  to  make  her  the  idol  of  a  parent's  heart,  sensibly 
fading  from  her  view,  was  more  than  nature  could  bear, 
unaided  by  the  influences  of  religion.  But,  where  nature 
was  wanting,  grace  superabounded  to  strengthen  and  sup- 
port her.  With  all  the  devotedness  that  maternal  love 
could  inspire,  she  watched  day  and  night  by  the  couch  of  her 
dying  Annina,  bestowing  every  care  and  administering  every 
comfort  with  the  most  unremitting  attention,  and  exhibiting 
the  most  heroic  courage  and  resignation  to  the  will  of  God. 
Mother  and  daughter  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  in  the 
display  of  Christian  sentiment  under  this  painful  trial ;  and 
it  would  be  difficult  to  decide  which  was  the  more  worthy 
of  admiration, — the  daughter  pressing  forward  with  eager- 
ness to  her  heavenly  home,  or  the  mother  generously  offer- 
ing the  sacrifice  of  her  first-born  child.  The  beauty  of  the 
scene  now  passing  in  St.  Joseph's  Valley  was  felt  far  beyond 
its  hallowed  limits.  From  every  quarter  was  the  voice  of 
sympathy,  comfort,  and  encouragement,  addressed  to  Mother 
Seton  and  her  suffering  daughter.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Dubourg, 
of  St.  Mary's  College,  Baltimore,  thus  wrote  to  the  for- 
mer : — "  From  your  report,  I  entertain  little  hopes  indeed ; 
but  the  dispositions  of  Annina  must  console  you.  Happy 
mother,  amid  all  your  trials !  Already  have  you  sent  up 
before  you  two  adopted  daughters.  Annina's  anxiety  to 
follow  thcra  does  not  surprise  me,  and  must  afford  you  great 
spiritual  comfort.  Why  did  you  bring  them  to  light  but  to 
prepare  them  for  heaven  ?  The  63oner  they  have  done  with 
the  trials  of  the  passage,  the  better  for  them,  the  more  con- 
doling for  you.  I  am  sometimes  thinking  of  the  generous 
mother  of  the  Maccabees,  or  of  St.  Felicitas,  who  both  had 
the  happiness  to  exhort  their  seven  sons  to  martyrdom  and 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  307 

to  be  united  with  them  in  the  Lord.  But  I  am  still  more 
moved  at  the  remembrance  of  Mary  at  the  foot  of  the  cross. 
Your  situation  comes  near  to  theirs,  and  you  will  find  in 
your  faith  the  same  motives  of  courage.  Look  up;  yes, 
look  up.  Nothing  here  below  is  worthy  of  your  attention. 
Nothing  surely  can  offer  you  a  substitute  for  your  daily 
losses." >18>  From  Archbishop  Carroll,  who  took  the  liveliest 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  Mother  Seton  and  her  family,  she 
received  the  most  grateful  expression  of  his  sympathy  and  ad- 
vice : — "While  the  situation  of  your  dear  Anna  Maria  fills 
with  sorrow  the  hearts  of  your  and  her  friends,  they  have 
at  the  same  time  occasion  to  bless  God  for  her  singular  re- 
signation of  herself  into  the  arms  of  Providence,  her  humble 
confidence  in  divine  mercy,  and  your  truly  Christian  forti- 
tude, the  effect  of  lively  faith.  Indeed,  it  is  to  me  a  matter 
of  doubt  whether  you  will  not  stand  in  greater  need  of  that 
fortitude,  to  wipe  off  the  tears  and  allay  the  anguish  of  dear 
Anna's  brothers  and  sisters  when  she  will  be  removed  from 
them,  than  to  moderate  the  vehemence  of  your  own  sensi- 
bility at  losing  the  visible  presence  of  such  an  angel.  May 
the  Prince  of  peace  continue  to  calm  the  emotions  of  your 
soul !  We  will  unite  our  prayers  to  those  of  the  favorites 
of  heaven  by  whom  you  are  surrounded,  that  the  holy  will 
of  God  may  be  done  and  his  glory  thereby  increased.  .  . 
Let  dear  Anna  know  that,  viewing  her  almost  as  the  happy 
inhabitant  of  a  better  world,  I  feel  for  her  an  awful  respect, 
and,  may  I  not  add,  veneration."  Bishop  Cheverus,  of 
Boston,  wrote  to  her  in  a  similar  strain: — "Since  I  re- 
csived  your  last,  I  am  every  day  with  you  at  the  bedside  of 
our  dear  Anna.  I  cry  with  you,  I  rejoice  with  you,  I  prny 
with  you  and  the  dear  child,  and  think  I  hear  her  repeat 
the  admirable  and  moving  words  she  addressed  to  you. 
Instead  of  consoling,  I  can  hardly  help  congratulating  yon 
and  your  swoet  and  holy  daughter."  These  words  of  com- 


808  THE    LIFE    Ot 

fort  and  instruction  from  distinguished  pastors  of  th« 
Church  were  carefully  treasured  up  by  Mother  Seton  and 
her  suffering  child.  The  situation  of  the  latter  becoming 
daily  more  critical,  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  administer 
the  last  sacraments,  which  she  received  with  extraordinary 
sentiments  of  fervor  on  the  30th  of  January.  Death  was 
now  advancing  at  a  rapid  pace ;  but  she  witnessed  ite  ap- 
proach with  the  most  admirable  composure,  and  with  a  rare 
energy  of  soul  encouraged  and  soothed  the  grieving  hearts 
of  all  around  her.  We  cannot  better  describe  her  real  dis- 
positions and  those  of  her  saintly  parent  at  this  time  than 
in  the  words  of  the  latter  to  a  friend : — 

"It  is  true:  the  dear,  lovely,  and  excellent  child  of  my 
heart  is  on  the  point  of  departure.  The  last  week  (second 
in  February)  she  has  been  every  moment  on  the  watch,  ex- 
pecting every  coughing-fit  would  be  the  last;  but,  with  a 
peace,  resignation,  and  contentment  of  soul  truly  consoling, 
— not  suffering  a  tear  to  be  shed  round  her, — she  has  some- 
thing comforting  to  say  to  all,  telling  all  her  many  com- 
panions who  come  occasionally  to  her  bedside,  '  See  how  soon 
you  may  die !  think  how  you  would  wish  to  be,  if  you  were 
on  this  bed  of  death  with  me !' — always  calculating  with  me, 
1  If  I  was  to  live,  dearest  mother,'  and  drawing  all  her  con- 
clusions that  she  is  not  only  willing  but  happy  to  go,  before 
she  passes  the  dangers  and  trials  of  future  years.  When 
the  last  change  took  place,  and  cold  sweat,  gasping  breathing, 
and  agonizing  pain,  indicated  immediate  dissolution,  the 
pain  of  her  eyes  so  great  she  could  no  longer  fix  them,  she 
said,  1 1  can  no  longer  look  at  you,  my  dear  crucifix,  but  1 
enter  my  agony  with  my  Saviour:  I  drink  the  cup  with  him. 
Yes,  adorable  Lord,  your  will,  and  yours  alone,  be  done  I  I 
will  it  too.  I  leave  my  dearest  mother  because  you  will  it—- 
my  dearest,  dearest  mother.'  Poor  mother,  you  will  say; 
and  yet,  happy  mother !  You  can  well  understand  this :  for 


MRS.   £.   A.   BETON  309 

me,  dear  friend, — to  see  her  receive  the  last  sacraments  with 
my  sentiments  of  them,  her  precious  soul  stretching  out  to- 
ward heaven,  the  singular  purity  of  her  life,  of  which  I  could 
give  you  the  most  amiable  proofs,  my  calculations  of  this 
world, — all,  dear  friend,  combine  to  silence  poor  nature." 
Nature,  indeed,  was  hushed  on  this  occasion,  that  fait! 
might  have  its  perfect  triumph.  On  the  Sunday  before 
Annina's  death,  the  mother,  with  a  martyr's  firmness,  and 
the  daughter,  with  equal  energy  of  soul,  desired  that  the 
young  ladies  of  the  academy  should  be  introduced  into  her 
chamber,  that  the  contemplation  of  the  wasted  form  and 
faded  beauty  there  presented  might  teach  them  a  lasting  les- 
son of  the  frailty  of  human  life.  The  boarders,  fifty  in  num- 
ber, were  distributed  into  bands,  who  were  admitted  one  after 
the  other;  first,  the  children  who  had  made  their  first  com- 
munion, then  the  class  that  was  preparing  for  it,  and,  lastly, 
those  who  composed  Annina's  decury.  On  appearing  before 
her,  she  addressed  them  in  the  most  impressive  manner,  her 
voice  being  like  that  of  one  from  the  grave : — "  My  dear 
girls,  come  and  look  at  your  poor  Anna;  see  how  I  am  re- 
duced who  but  a  few  weeks  ago  was  as  well,  as  gay,  as  play- 
ful, and  as  happy,  as  you  are.  See  me  now  in  the  arms  of 
death ;  look  at  the  state  of  my  breast :  I  must  now  go  to 
eternity.  The  mortification  has  already  commenced."  Here, 
uncovering  her  neck,  to  let  them  behold  its  sad  condition, 
after  the  dreadful  sufferings  she  had  endured  the  night  be- 
fore, "See,"  she  continued,  "the  body  which  I  used  to  dress 
and  lace  up  so  well :  what  is  it  now  ?  Look  at  these  hands : 
tue  worms  will  have  poor  banqueting  here.  What  is  beauty  ? 
what  is  life?  Nothing;  nothing.  Oh,  love  and  serve  God 
faithfully,  and  prepare  for  eternity.  Some  of  you,  dear 
girls,  may  soon  be  as  I  am  now ;  be  good,  and  pray  for  me." 
Sobs  and  tears  were  the  only  nply  to  this  moving  address, 
nhich  sank  deeply  into  the  hearts  of  all  present 


310  THE    LIFE    OF 

The  nearer  she  drew  to  her  last  hour,  the  more  absorbed 
did  she  become  with  the  thought  and  desire  of  her  eternal 
home.  She  delighted  in  hearing  her  favorite  canticles  of 
piety  sung  in  her  presence,  or  in  repeating  such  parts  of 
them  as  most  inflamed  her  devotion.  "  Eternity,  eternity !" 
she  would  often  exclaim,  "of  never-ceasing  joys.  Eternity 
of  never-ceasing  sighs!  Oh  may  I  escape  those  dreadful 
woes  I"  Desirous  of  completing  the  sacrifice  which  she  had 
made  to  God  of  her  heart  and  its  affections,  Sister  Annina 
requested  the  favor  of  being  permitted  to  die  a  professed 
Sister  of  Charity;  and,  although  the  time  had  not  yet  arrived 
for  any  of  the  community  to  be  admitted  to  the  usual  vows, 
she  was  allowed,  on  the  day  preceding  her  death,  to  bind  her- 
self by  those  sacred  obligations  of  poverty,  chastity,  and  obe- 
dience, thus  becoming  the  first  professed  member  of  the  sis- 
terhood. On  the  morning  of  her  departure,  she  called  her 
two  younger  sisters,  requesting  them  to  kneel  at  the  foot  of 
her  bed  and  sing  these  favorite  lines : — 

"Though  all  the  powers  of  hell  surround. 

No  evil  will  I  fear; 
For  while  my  Jesus  is  my  friend, 
No  danger  can  come  near." 

It  was  a  heart-rending  scene.  The  desire  to  please  a  be- 
loved and  dying  sister  nerved  the  young  creatures  to  over- 
come their  feelings,  and  with  streaming  eyes  and  throl:  bing 
hearts  they  entered  upon  the  task;  but  the  overpowerings  of 
grief  soon  compelled  them  to  desist.  Mother  Seton,  with  a 
fortitude  rarely  to  be  seen,  sat  supporting  her  expiring  child, 
while  the  silent  tears  coursed  down  her  cheeks,  until  the  last 
sad  conflict  of  nature  became  too  severe.  Some  of  the  sisters 
prevailed  upon  her  to  change  her  position,  when  she  retired 
before  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  until  the  scene  was  over  and 
the  pure  spirit  of  Sister  Annina  had  winged  its  flight  to 


MRS.   E.    A.   8ETON.  311 

heaven.  She  departed  this  life  on  the  12th  of  March,  1812, 
in  the  17th  year  of  her  age.  No  sooner  was  the  intelligence 
of  the  event  communicated  to  the  young  ladies  of  the  school, 
together  with  the  last  advice  and  farewell  of  their  venerated 
companion,  than  the  house  resounded  with  sobs  and  lamenta- 
tions. Every  one  was  eager  to  kiss  the  last  words  of  the 
angel  of  the  school.  Then  they  all  retired  before  the  altar 
to  recommend  her  precious  soul  to  the  mercy  of  its  Creator. 
On  the  following  day,  her  remains  were  deposited  in  the 
grave,  amid  the  prayers  and  regrets  of  the  whole  commu- 
nity,— the  girls  of  the  academy  clothed  in  white,  as  an  appro- 
priate emblem  of  the  pure  and  spotless  character  of  her 
whose  loss  they  so  deeply  deplored.  Mother  Seton,  in  fol- 
lowing her  sweet  child  to  her  resting-place,  appeared  more 
like  a  statue  of  grief  than  a  living  being.  But  one  tear  was 
seen  upon  her  cheek,  as  she  returned  from  the  overwhelming 
scene;  and,  raising  her  eyes  to  heaven,  she  uttered  slowly,  as 
if  yielding  to  the  full  force  of  the  sentiment,  "  Father,  thy 
will  be  done."  Among  her  companions,  Sister  Annina  was 
never  forgotten.  For  several  years,  the  children  of  the  vil- 
lage delighted  in  covering  her  grave  with  moss  and  the  lily 
of  the  valley.  Every  time  they  came  to  St.  Joseph's  school 
they  would  bring  their  collection  of  beautiful  flowers  to 
adorn  the  spot  where  reposed  the  beloved  preceptress  who 
had  taught  them  so  many  lessons  of  virtue.  Each  one  pos- 
sessed some  cherished  memento  of  Miss  Annina  Seton's 
kindness  and  affection. 

The  departure  of  her  eldest  child,  in  the  bloom  of  life  and 
possessing  so  many  endearing  qualities,  could  not  but  be 
eensibly  felt  by  Mother  Seton,  although  faith  sustained  her 
and  controlled  her  feelings.  As  she  says  herself,  in  writing 
to  a  friend,  "  The  separation  from  my  angel  has  left  so  new 
and  deep  an  impression  on  my  mind  that,  if  1  was  not 
obliged  to  live  in  these  dear  ones,  (her  children,)  I  should 


812  THE    LIFE    0V 

unconsciously  die  in  her : — unconsciously,  for  never,  by  a  fre« 
act  of  the  mind,  would  I  ever  regret  his  will."  "  Who  can 
tell  the  silent  solitude  of  the  mother's  soul  ?  its  peace  and 
rest  in  God  1"  At  another  time,  the  anniversary  of  Anna's 
birthday,*  which  brought  her  forcibly  to  her  mind,  she  pours 
forth  one  of  those  plaintive  strains  which  religion  does  not 
refuse  to  nature  when  indulged  with  due  subordination  to 
the  spirit  of  faith.  Augustin  would  not  be  condemned  for 
the  tears  shed  over  a  beloved  parent,  who  had  so  often  wept 
in  her  solicitude  for  him.  Here  the  mother  could  be  al- 
lowed to  mourn  over  the  loss  of  a  child  who  had  become 
endeared  to  her  by  every  consideration  of  filial  duty.  "  The 
remembrance  of  my  lovely  one,"  she  writes,  "now  forces 
itself  in  every  moment.  Her  singular  modesty  and  grace 
of  action,  the  lifting  her  eyes  from  the  ground  to  cast  the 
rays  of  her  very  soul  into  mine,  which  was  often  her  only 
expression  of  her  desires  or  wishes, — and  now  I  am  so  happy 
that  I  never  contradicted  any  of  them, — her  rational  and 
pure  sentiments  set  down  in  so  many  ways,  the  neatness  and 
order  of  all  her  little  affairs,  and  ingenious  way  of  uniting 
economy  and  elegance  in  her  plain  and  simple  dress, — this 
was  always  a  delight  to  poor  mother,  but  now  an  admiration, 
and  it  appears  to  me  I  never  saw  or  shall  see  any  thing  to 
be  compared  to  her.  Poor,  poor  mother,  let  her  talk  to  you, 
dear  Eliza;  if  you  coild  have  seen  the  moment  when  kneel- 
ing at  the  foot  of  her  bed  to  rub  her  cold,  cold  feet  a  day 
or  two  before  !  she  saw  the  tears,  and,  without  being  able  to 
hide  her  own,  although  smiling  at  the  same  time,  she  re- 
peated the  so-often-asked  question,  '  Can  it  be  for  me »' 
Should  you  not  rejoice  ?  It  will  be  but  a  moment,  and  re- 
united for  eternity,  a  happy  eternity  with  my  mother !  Wha4 
a  thought !'  These  were  her  very  words,  and  when  in  death'* 

»  May  3. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  *U 

Agony  her-qniverin^  lips  could  -with  difficulty  utter  one  word 
feeling  a  tear  tall  ou  her  face,  she  smiled,  and  said  with  great 
effort,  'Laugh — mother — Jesus,'  at  intervals,  as  she  could 
not  put  two  words  together.  Oh,  the  last  look  of  the  eyes, 
as  if  piercing  the  clouds,  and  her  dear  hands  locked  on  the 
breast  and  never  unclasped  ! — the  dear  ulster  who  dressed 
her  in  her  white  bed-gown  cut  the  sleeves  to  preserve  her 
posture, — poor  mother  must  say  no  more  now ;  only  pray 
that  she  may  be  strengthened.  .  .  .  You  believe  me  when  I 
say,  with  my  whole  soul,  '  THY  WILL  BE  DONE  FOREVER.' 
Eternity  was  Anna's  darling  word.  I  find  it  written  is 
every  thing  that  belonged  to  her :  music,  books,  copies,  the 
walls  of  her  little  chamber, — everywhere  that  word.  .  . 
What  would  you  give  to  adorn  our  white  enclosure,  contain- 
ing the  precious  three,*  with  your  myrtles  and  jessamines} 
The  children  have  covered  them  with  violets,  and  all  the 
spring-flowersf  of  the  neighborhood  are  collected  there,  the 
lily  of  the  valley  in  abundance.  So  familiar  they  are  with 
death,  they  have  marked  out  my  place  next  to  Nina,  and 
every  day  some  new  rosebush,  or  shrub,  or  flower,  is  carried 

there.     K will  sometimes  kiss  me  in  a  transport-,  and 

ask,  '  Oh,  mother,  won't  we  be  happy  when  we  are  there  ?' 

Little  B is  more  given  to  tears,  and  often  says,  l  If  I 

should  be  left  behind  !'"J 

No  sooner  did  the  intelligence  of  Sister  Annina's  death 
reach  her  friends  abroad,  than  expressions  of  the  wannest 
sympathy  were  directed  to  Mother  Seton.  But  she  was  ad- 
dressed rather  in  a  tone  of  congratulation  than  of  grief,  for 
ha>ing  sent  before  her  a  child  so  remarkable  for  her  piety 


*  Harriet  Seton,  Sister  Cecilia  Seton,  and  Sister  Annina. 
f  This  letter  was  written  in  May,  1812. 

}  How  truly  could  the  inmates  of  St  Joseph's  say,  with  the  apoitl*, 
**  Our  conversation  is  in  heaven" 
27 


314  THE    LIFE    Of 

and  innocence.  "  Happy  mother !"  exclaims  one  of  her 
former  pupils,  "  in  having  such  a  daughter  to  return  to  OUT 
dearest  Lord.  Happy  I  think  myself  in  having  such  a  friend 
in  heaven." 


BOOK  VHI. 

Bey.  Simon  Q.  Brut4  becomes  the  assistant  of  Mr.  Dubois — Laborioot 
charge  of  the  latter — Notice  of  Mr.  Brute" — Archbishop  Carroll  visit* 
the  Sisterhood — Fervor  of  the  Community — Virtues  of  Sister  Maria 
Murphy — Her  illness  and  death — Spirit  of  poverty  at  St  Joseph's — 
First  vows — Lessons  and  example  of  Mother  Seton — Deaths  in  the 
Community — Sisters  Eleanor  Thompson,  Benedicta  Corish,  Agues 
Duffy,  and  Catharine  Mullen — Sisters  called  to  Philadelphia — Take 
charge  of  an  Orphan  Asylum  in  that  city — Its  origin  and  progress — 
Sisters  of  Charity  in  Kentucky — Mother  Seton's  attention  to  the  Aca- 
demy— Her  qualifications  as  a  preceptress  of  female  youth — Conduct 
toward  the  pupils  and  their  parents — Wisdom  in  the  formation  of 
character — Instructions  to  the  young  ladies — Her  manner — Mildness 
in  reproof — Salutary  effect  of  her  instructions. 

RELEASED  from  the  constant  care  which  the  illness  of  her 
daughter  had  imposed,  Mother  Seton  turned  her  attention 
more  particularly  to  the  wants  of  the  sisterhood  and  aca- 
demy, which  afforded  continual  employment  to  her  charity 
and  zeal.  In  September,  1812,  her  community  had  the  hap- 
piness of  receiving  the  regular  services  of  the  Rev.  Simon 
Gabriel  Brute",  who  had  been  appointed  the  assistant  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Dubois.  The  duties  of  the  latter  clergyman  had 
been  daily  increasing;  and,  although  since  the  year  1810 
he  had  been  aided  in  his  arduous  labours  by  the  Rev.  Charles 
Duhamel,  who  had  the  pastoral  charge  of  the  congregation 
in  Emmettsburg,  he  required  additional  help  for  his  varied 
and  important  occupations.  Besides  having  the  charge  of 
Mt.  St.  Mary's  congregation,  whose  members  were  scattered 


MRS.    £.    A.    SETON.  £15 

over  the  country  round  and  called  upon  him  in  the  time 
of  sickness  and  other  emergencies,  he  was  the  president  of 
the  College  and  superior  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  either  of 
which  offices  would  have  been  sufficient  to  occupy  a  man  of 
ordinary  zeal.*  To  these  engrossing  occupations  he  devoted 
himself  with  unremitting  attention,  and  almost  alone,  as  at 
this  time  he  could  command  but  a  very  limited  assistance. 
Every  morning  he  went,  before  the  dawn  of  day,  to  cele- 
brate mass  at  St.  Joseph's,  nearly  two  miles  distant,  and  im- 
mediately on  his  return  he  entered  upon  a  round  of  uninter- 
rupted duty  in  the  college.,  where  he  acted  not  only  as  presi- 
dent, but  as  the  professor  of  the  chief  branches  that  were 
taught.  This,  with  the  intended  enlargement  of  the  course 
of  study,  and  constant  demand  upon  his  time  for  the  visit- 
ing of  the  sick  and  the  administration  of  the  sacraments, 
rendered  it  all-important  that  he  should  have  the  aid  of  a 
zealous  and  efficient  priest  to  relieve  him  from  a  portion  of 
the  labor  that  threatened  to  overpower  him.  Such  was 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Brute",  whose  distinguished  talents  and  virtues 
became  a  most  valuable  acquisition  to  the  two  institutions 
in  the  vicinity  of  Emmettsburg  and  to  the  Catholic  popu- 
lation generally. 

Mr.  Brute"  was  born  at  Rennes,  in  France,  in  1779,  of 
wealthy  and  respectable  parents,  whose  first  care  was  to  edu- 
cate their  son  in  the  fear  and  love  of  God.  During  the 
French  revolution,  the  fortunes  of  his  family  being  scattered, 
he  assisted  his  mother,  the  only  surviving  parent,  in  a  print- 
ing establishment,  which  she  had  undertaken  as  a  means  of 
subsistence.  As  soon  as  circumstances  permitted,  he  en- 
tered upon  a  course  of  medical  study,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  spirit  of  irreligion  which  prevailed  at  the  time,  he  fear- 
lessly professed  his  faith  and  fulfilled  its  duties.  In  1803, 

*  The  college  at  this  time  (1812)  numbered  upward  of  sixty  itudeoU. 


816  THE    LIFE    Of 

he  graduated  in  medicine  with  the  highest  honors;  but,  be- 
lieving that  the  will  of  God  called  him  to  another  sphere  of 
life,  he  commenced  the  study  of  theology  in  the  seminary  of 
St.  Sulpitius,  at  Paris,  and,  after  five  years  of  continual  ap- 
plication to  acquire  the  knowledge  and  virtues  of  the  eccle- 
siastical state,  he  was  promoted  to  the  holy  order  of  priest- 
hood. After  his  ordination  Mr.  Brut6  became  a  member  of 
the  Sulpitian  society,  and  taught  theology  in  the  seminary 
of  his  native  place  until  the  year  1810,  when  he  embarked 
for  America  in  the  company  of  the  Rt.  Rev.  Mr.  Flaget. 
On  his  arrival  in  Baltimore,  he  became  a  director  in  St. 
Mary's  Seminary,  and  taught  a  class  of  philosophy  in  tba 
college  adjoining  it.  Here  he  soon  distinguished  himself 
by  his  ability  as  a  scholar  and  divine,  particularly  in  a  con- 
troversy which  was  soon  afterward  provoked  by  the  adver- 
saries of  Catholicity,  and  during  which  he  gave  signal  proof 
of  his  zeal  for  religion  and  of  the  eminent  talent  and  learn- 
ing which  he  was  capable  of  wielding  in  its  defence.  No 
clergyman  could  have  been  more  suitably  appointed  to  aid 
Mr.  Dubois  than  Mr.  Brute",  whose  physical  activity  was  not 
less  remarkable  than  his  intellectual  and  moral  qualities. 
Besides  sharing  in  the  duties  of  the  college  and  the  holy 
ministry,  he  celebrated  mass  four  times  in  the  week  at  St. 
Joseph's  sisterhood.  Mother  Seton  derived  the  greatest 
benefit  from  his  excellent  counsels.  She  and  Mr.  Brute" 
were  congenial  spirits;  their  minds  would  seem  to  have 
been  cast  in  the  same  mould.  A  vivid  fancy  and  ardent 
temperament,  with  an  entire  yielding  of  himself  to  the  im- 
pulses of  faith,  caused  Mr.  Brute"  to  feel  most  powerfully  the 
truths  of  religion,  and  with  a  corresponding  fervor  to  an- 
nounce them  in  word  or  writing.  His  ideas  flowed  so  ra- 
piily  that  at  times  he  would  not  stop  to  give  them  a  full 
expression  in  language;  but  he  poured  forth  his  subjects,  a» 
it  were,  in  flashes  of  word  and  sentiment,  leaving  much  to  be 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  817 

supplied  and  felt  by  those  to  whom  he  addressed  himself. 
In  Mother  Seton  he  found  a  soul  who  could  follow  him  in 
his  lofty  and  beautiful  flights  on  the  wings  of  faith,  who 
could  catch  the  fire  of  his  thoughts  and  commune  with  him 
in  the  enjoyment  of  their  elevating  power.  From  him  in  a 
great  measure  did  she  learn  how  to  preserve  her  soul  in 
peace  amid  the  trials  of  her  position,  and,  abandoning  her- 
self to  the  will  of  God  in  all  things,  to  look  forward  in  hope 
and  joy  to  the  term  of  all  earthly  suffering  and  vicissitude. 
Soon  after  Mr.  Brute's  arrival  at  the  Mountain,  St.  Jo- 
seph's valley  was  cheered  by  a  visit  from  Archbishop  Car- 
roll, who  administered  the  sacrament  of  confirmation  at  the 
sisterhood.  It  was  always  a  happiness  for  Mother  Seton  to 
receive  the  directions  of  this  enlightened  prelate,  who,  on  his 
part,  was  ever  charmed  with  the  edifying  scenes  which  St. 
Joseph's  house  presented  to  his  view.  At  this  period,  he 
beheld  the  community  all  vicing  with  each  other  in  the  prac- 
tice of  Christian  perfection,  and  preparing  themselves,  by  the 
duties  of  the  noviceship,  for  a  more  solemn  consecration  to 
the  service  of  God.*  Mother  Seton,  both  by  her  instructions 
and  example,  animated  them  in  the  pursuit  of  their  holy 
vocation.  She  addressed  them  frequently  on  this  subject, 
sometimes  reading  to  them  the  observations  of  some  spiritual 
writer,  and  then  adding  her  own  reflections.  The  principal 
lessons  which  she  inculcated  were  a  spirit  of  sacrifice  and 
mortification,  a  generous  and  willing  service  to  God,  and  a 


*  The  following  lines,  written  by  the  archbishop  to  Mother  Seton  m 
few  months  after  his  visit  to  the  sisterhood,  will  show  the  fatherly  interest 
whish  he  felt  in  the  institution : — "  If  I  had  time  for  a  lengthy  letter,  you 
would,  perhaps,  receive  such  a  one ;  for  it  would  give  me  pleasure  to 
write  to  you  on  different  subjects,  and  recall  to  my  recollection,  not  only 
your  dearest  sisters  and  your  amiable  children  generally,  but  each  of 
them  individually.  But  now  I  can  do  no  more  than  recommend  myself 
to  their  holy  prayers  and  assure  thorn  of  my  paternal  affection." 
27* 


818  THE    LIFE    OF 

disposition  of  soul  to  be  ready  for  any  manifestation  of  th« 
divine  will.  But  what  she  preached  to  others  as  the  proper 
spirit  of  those  who  aspired  to  be  the  favored  spouses  of  Jesus 
Christ,  she  never  failed  to  illustrate  in  her  own  daily  life; 
convinced  that  the  highest  duty  of  a  superior  is  to  lead 
souls  to  God  by  the  influence  of  example.  Nor  was  she 
disappointed  in  her  expectations.  Her  spiritual  daughters 
zealously  aimed  at  the  practice  of  the  virtues  which  sho  in- 
culcated, and  gave  joy  to  her  heart  by  their  progress  in  the 
ways  of  God.  "You  would  not  believe,"  she  writes  to  a 
friend,  "how  beautifully  our  affairs  go  on.  Oh!  what  per- 
spective for  eternity !  To  be  sure,  the  beauty  of  the  cross 
is  the  greatest  charm,  but  it  is  that  which  makes  the  pros- 
pect so  good." 

Among  those  most  distinguished  for  then  virtue  in  St. 
Joseph's  house  was  Sister  Maria  Murphy,  the  second  person 
who  had  joined  the  community.  She  was  a  native  of  Ire- 
land, and  a  niece  of  Matthew  Carey,  Esq.,  of  Philadelphia,  so 
well  known  for  his  active  philanthropy  and  the  vindication 
of  his  countrymen  against  British  oppression.  Possessed  of 
a  singular  sweetness  of  disposition  and  of  great  personal 
charms,  she  beheld  a  bright  prospect  before  her  in  the  world : 
but  the  grace  of  God  inspired  her  with  an  aversion  for  its 
empty  enjoyments,  and  led  her  to  seek  a  more  perfect  hap- 
piness in  religious  retirement.  From  the  day  on  which  she 
took  the  habit,  she  was  conspicuous  for  the  holiness  of  her 
life;  her  humility,  modesty,  and  recollection  being  objects 
of  admiration  and  edification  to  all  around  her.  Such  was 
her  gentleness  of  manners  that  Mother  Seton  gave  her  the 
name  of  "  dove."  Although  a  lover  of  silence,  from  her  habit 
of  recollection,  she  always  met  her  companions  and  others 
with  a  smile.  Notwithstanding  her  delicate  health,  holy 
poverty  and  mortification  were  her  favorite  virtues.  She 
was  known  to  select  the  oldest  and  worst  articles  of  clothing, 


MRS.   E.    A.   SETON.  816 

and  to  delight  in  taking  for  her  meal  the  refuse  of  the  table. 
As  it  was  feared  that  her  austerity  might  be  injurious  to 
iier  health,  she  became  an  object  of  vigilance.  One  day, 
being  obliged,  on  account  of  her  occupations,  to  dine  with 
another  sister  after  the  community  hour,  a»d  finding  that 
the  supply  was  too  scanty  for  two  persons,  she  relinquished 
her  portion  to  her  companion  without  being  observed,  placing 
herself  in  such  a  position  as  to  conceal  what  she  was  eating. 
But  the  other  sister,  having  been  led  by  suspicion  to  exa- 
mine more  closely  into  the  matter,  discovered  that  she  waa 
dining  on  a  bit  of  hard  bread  and  a  cup  of  water;  and  she 
observed  to  her,  "  Dear  sister,  if  you  do  not  take  your  por- 
tion, I  will  tell  mother.  You  are  killing  yourself."  Upon 
this,  Sister  Maria  looked  at  her  companion  with  an  air  of 
seriousness,  and  said,  "  Ah,  I  did  not  expect  that  of  you : 
you  know  how  much  I  have  offended  God,  and  how  great  a 
penance  I  owe  for  my  sins.  I  do  so  little  in  satisfaction  for 
them.  Why  would  you  prevent  me  ?"  On  saying  this,  she 
took,  with  great  humility,  the  part  that  had  been  assigned 
her,  but  not  without  mingling  it  with  her  tears.  Naturally 
of  a  weak  constitution,  she  was  subject  to  frequent  attacks  of 
sickness,  which  at  length  resulted  in  a  disease  of  the  lungs. 
On  one  occasion,  she  was  directed  to  bathe  her  feet  in  warm 
water,  which  the  sister  infirmarian  having  brought,  she  put 
her  feet  into  it  and  immediately  withdrew  them,  observing 
that  the  water  was  too  hot.  But  her  attendant  insisting  that 
it  was  not  too  warm,  she  returned  her  feet  into  the  vessel 
and  held  them  there  as  long  as  she  was  required,  although 
it  caused  her  intense  pain,  and  produced  an  inflammation  from 
which  she  suffered  for  a  long  time  after.  By  this  assiduotu 
practice  of  the  virtues  of  her  state  she  soon  became  ripe  for 
heaven.  During  her  last  illness,  when  the  holy  Viaticum  was 
brought  to  her,  such  was  the  transport  of  her  joy  in  behold- 
ing the  Sacred  Host  before  her,  that  she  almost  fell  from  her 


320  THE    LIFE    OF 

bed  in  an  effort  to  go  and  meet  her  heavenly  Spouse.  Hei 
countenance  beaming  with  inexpressible  delight,  she  ex- 
claimed, "Oh,  my  Jesus,  my  dear  Lord!"  and  then,  as  if  re- 
collecting herself,  she  fell  back  on  the  pillow,  and  received 
with  great  composure  and  fervor  the  adorable  object  of  hei 
love.  She  calmly  expired  on  the  15th  of  October,  1812 
leaving  her  memory  in  benediction  among  all  who  knew  her 
In  alluding  to  her  death,  Mother  Seton  exclaimed,  "What 
a  delight  for  poor  mother  to  have  been,  and  to  be  still,  her 
mother!  The  natural  one  was  present,  but  the  spiritual 
one,  who  had  all  her  little  secrets  of  the  soul,  was  the 
dearest." 

During  the  period  allotted  for  the  trial  of  the  rules  and 
for  determining  the  vocation  of  those  who  had  joined  the 
community,  abundant  opportunities  were  presented  of  culti- 
vating that  spirit  of  poverty  which  was  characteristic  of  the 
society.  The  war  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United 
States  had  caused  a  considerable  rise  in  the  price  of  mer- 
chandise, and  made  it  necessary  to  introduce  a  more  rigid 
economy.  With  this  view,  it  was  proposed  that  the  use  of 
sugar  should  be  dispensed  with  among  the  sisters, — a  sacrifice 
to  which  they  readily  assented.  A  deliberation  was  also 
held  respecting  the  use  of  cotton  instead  of  linen,  the  former 
Deing  a  much  cheaper  article  and  more  conformable  to  the 
spirit  of  holy  poverty.  Though  the  change  involved  no  little 
inconvenience  for  many,  especially  in  the  warm  season,  all 
were  in  favor  of  adopting  the  coarsest  material  of  clothing, 
as  best  suited  to  the  servants  of  God.  This  disposition  to 
practise  the  evangelical  counsels  was  the  best  preparation 
which  the  sisters  of  St.  Joseph's  could  bring  to  those  solemn 
engagements  by  which  they  were  to  seal  their  consecration 
to  God  in  the  service  of  their  neighbor.  They  had  left  the 
world,  with  all  its  attractions,  to  sanctify  themselves  by  la- 
boring in  the  cause  of  charity;  and  the  time  had  now  arrived 


MRS.    E     A     SETON.  821 

for  completing  the  sacrifice,  by  the  simple  vows  of  poverty, 
chastity,  and  obedience,  thus  binding  themselves  in  a  special 
manuei  tc  the  renunciation  of  earthly  things,  and  even  of 
their  own  will,  that  they  might  be  free  to  execute  the  will  of 
God  in  any  employments  to  which  they  would  be  called."1' 
Moro  than  a  year  had  been  allowed  them  as  a  term  of  pro- 
bation, at  the  expiration  of  which,  eighteen  members  of  the 
community  were  admitted  to  the  above-mentioned  obliga 
tions,  viz. : — Mother- Superior,  Mary  Eliza  Ann  Seton,  and 
Sisters  Rose  White,  Catharine  Mullen,  Ann  Gruber,  Eliza- 
beth Boyle,  Angela  Brady,  Cecilia  O' Con  way,  Susan  Glossy, 
Mary  Ann  Butler,  Adele  Salva,  Louise  Roger,  Margaret 
George,  Sarah  Thompson,  Eleanor  Thompson,  Martina 
Quinn,  Fanny  Jordan,  Theresa  Conway,  and  Julia  Shirk 
This  impressive  and  joyful  ceremony  took  place  on  the  19th 
of  July,  1813,  and  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  zeal  and  piety 
of  the  sisterhood.  The  following  month  a  novitiate  was 
established  in  due  form,  Sister  Catharine  Mullen  being 
appointed  mistress  of  novices,  who  were  then  about  ten  in 
number,  eight  of  whom  had  entered  the  community  during 
the  previous  year.  By  the  admission  to  the  vows  and  the 
opening  of  the  novitiate  the  society  became  complete  in  its 
organization,  and  was  prepared  to  extend  its  usefulness 
abroad,  as  soon  as  Divine  Providence  would  indicate  the 
proper  moment.  In  the  mean  time  the  sisters  were  full  of 
zeal  and  activity  in  the  various  occupations  assigned  them, 
irhich  was  a  source  of  great  joy  to  the  heart  of  their  venera- 
ble superior.  Though  she  felt,  as  her  humility  expressed  it 
in  a  letter  to  Archbishop  Carroll,  "  like  a  dry  and  barren 
tree"  in  the  midst  of  her  spiritual  daughters,  she  was  the 
prop  and  encouragement  of  all  around  her,  animating  them 
by  her  exhortations,  and  displaying  a  bright  example  of  every 
rirtue  that  became  their  profession.  The  following  extract* 
frum  her  writings  will  serve  to  show  the  style  and  spirit  of 


522  THE     LIFE    OF 

the  instructions  which  she  gave  to  those  under  her  diree 
tion. 

Speaking  of  the  interior  life,  she  says,  "  You  must  be  in 
right  earnest,  or  you  will  do  little  or  nothing.  First,  it  re- 
quires a  constant  guard  over  our  senses.  What  sort  of  inte- 
rior life  would  you  lead,  if,  every  time  the  door  opens,  or  if 
any  one  passes  you,  you  must  look  up  ?  if  you  must  hear  what 
is  said,  though  it  does  not  concern  you?  or,  if  you  remain 
silent  and  in  your  modest  attention  to  your  duty,  what 
would  be  your  interior  life  if  you  let  your  thoughts  wander 
from  God?  I  once  heard  a  silent  person  say  that  she  was 
listening  to  every  thing  around  her  and  making  her  Judas 
reflections  on  all  that  was  said  or  done,  and  another  that 
she  delighted  in  silence,  because  she  could  be  thinking  of 
her  dear  people.  But  you  know  better  than  that.  Still,  I 
will  tell  you  what  is  my  own  great  help.  I  once  read  or 
heard  that  an  interior  life  meant  but  the  continuation  of  our 
Saviour's  life  in  us;  that  the  great  object  of  all  his  mysteries 
waa  to  merit  us  the  grace  of  this  interior  life  and  communi- 
cate it  to  us,  it  being  the  end  of  his  mission  to  lead  us  into 
that  sweet  land  of  promise, — a  life  of  constant  union  with 
himself.  And  what  was  the  first  rule  of  our  dear  Saviour's 
life  ?  You  know  it  was  to  do  his  Father's  will.  Well,  then, 
the  first  end  1  propose  in  our  daily  work  is  to  do  the  will  of 
God;  secondly,  to  do  it  in  the  manner  he  wills  it;  and 
thirdly,  to  do  it  because  it  is  his  will.  I  know  what  his  will 
is  by  those  who  direct  me ;  whatever  they  bid  me  do,  if  it  is 
ever  so  small  in  itself,  is  the  will  of  God  for  me.  Then,  do 
it  in  the  manner  he  wills  it, — not  sewing  an  old  thing  as  if  it 
waa  new,  or  a  new  thing  as  if  it  was  old  ;  not  fretting  be- 
cause the  oven  is  too  hot,  or  in  a  fuss  because  it  is  too  cold 
You  understand :  not  flying  and  driving  because  you  are  hur 
ried,  nor  creeping  like  a  snail  because  no  one  pushes  you 
Oar  dear  Saviour  was  never  in  extremes.  The  third  objed 


MRS.    E.    A.    BETON.  823 

in  to  do  this  will  because  God  wills  it, — that  is,  to  be  ready 
to  quit  at  any  moment,  and  to  do  any  thing  else  we  may  be 
called  to." 

Discoursing  on  the  virtue  of  walking  in  the  presence  of 
God,  one  of  the  principal  helps  in  the  spiritual  life,  she  says, 
"  You  know  how  apt  your  mind  is  to  wander,  and  how  easily 
you  are  led  away  by  sensible  objects.  You  will  never  re- 
ceive any  lively  impressions  of  grace  until  you  overcome  this 
dissipation  of  mind.  If  you  are  ever  so  fervent  at  your 
prayers,  or  desire  ever  so  much  to  be  good,  it  will  be  all 
like  putting  hartshorn  in  a  bottle  and  leaving  the  cork  out : 
— what  will  it  be  worth  ?  So,  all  the  prayers,  readings,  and 
good  talk  you  love  so  much  will  be  to  little  purpose  unless 
you  place  a  sentinel  at  the  door  of  your  heart  and  mind 
You  often  lose  in  ten  minutes  by  your  dissipation  of  mind 
more  than  you  had  gained  a  whole  day  by  mortification. 
See  your  dear  Saviour  alone  in  the  midst  of  your  soul ; 
like  a  shepherd,  he  calls  for  all  the  powers  of  your  soul, 
all  the  affections  of  your  heart,  to  come  around  him  like 
his  own  little  flock.  But  how  they  are  scattered  about  I 
See,  he  holds  a  paper  in  his  dear  hand  :  what  is  written  on 
it  ?  l  Speak  little,  my  child;  pray  much;  cherish  no  attach- 
ment; keep  close  to  me;  let  every  thing  that  passes  pass; 
mind  nothing  but  what  is  eternal.  I  never  take  my  eyes  off 
of  you  night  or  day :  how  can  you  forget  me  so  often  T  " 

In  exhorting  her  sisters  to  be  faithful  in  corresponding 
to  the  grace  of  God  and  to  act  with  purity  of  intention,  she 
would  say,  "  Not  a  single  grace  is  given  you  but  was  bought 
with  the  blood  of  Jesus,  your  compassionate  Saviour.  Not 
ono  grace  is  given  but  might  by  your  fidelity  to  it  become 
for  you  an  eternal  treasure.  Not  one  grace  is  given  you  but 
you  must  give  an  account  of  it  in  your  hour  of  death  and 
judgment.  ...  St.  Augustin  says,  Our  least  action,  when 
done  for  God,  is  precious  to  him,  while  the  greatest  action! 


324  THE    LIFE    Of 

without  this  pure  intention  are  worthless  and  contemptible 
in  his  eyes.  With  what  a  lively,  cheerful  heart  we  go  to 
work,  even  when  the  thing  we  are  to  do  displeases  poor 
nature,  if  only  grace  cries  out  courageously,  '  It  is  all  for 
you,  my  God !'  You  know  every  step  we  take  all  day  long  is 
a  step  of  nature  or  a  step  of  grace ;  or,  as  our  blessed  St. 
Francis  de  Sales  says,  we  are  always  obeying  our  bad  Mary 
or  our  good  Mary; — our  bad  Mary,  who  is  the  daughter  of 
Eve,  or  our  good  Mary,  daughter  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
who  solicits  us  to  follow  her  dear  Mother's  holy  example 
and  do  every  thing  for  the  glory  of  God.  And  think  how 
great  is  our  blindness  and  misery  when,  for  want  of  directing 
our  intentions  to  this  end,  we  lose  the  merit  of  all  we  do,  in- 
stead of  gathering  up  heavenly  treasures  and  weaving  our 
bright  crown  for  eternity.  Alas  !  says  St.  Augustin,  why, 
for  the  short  time  we  have  to  live,  are  we  not  busy  in  gain- 
ing our  rewards  ?  When  so  rich  a  harvest  is  before  us,  why 
do  we  not  gather  it  ?  All  is  in  our  hands,  if  we  will  but  use 
it  We  suffer  and  toil  through  our  days ;  and  after  all  our 
labor,  instead  of  coming  before  God  loaded  with  merits,  we 
will  stand  empty-handed  in  his  presence,  and  have  nothing 
to  offer  but  our  useless  regrets  and  bitter  remorse,  when  both 
will  be  unavailing.  You  have  been  many  times  told  that  to 
avoid  this  sad  evil  we  must  take  care  not  to  do  our  actions 
as  through  custom  and  without  motive ;  not  to  do  them 
through  vanity  or  pride;  not  to  do  them  through  human  re- 
spect or  self-love,  which  tries  to  poison  all  we  do. 

"  The  rule  given  us  for  securing  the  heavenly  practice 
of  pure  intention  is  to  be  careful  of  our  morning  offering, 
which  seals  the  whole  day :  since  Fe'ne'lon  says,  that  after  it 
is  made  fully  and  sincerely,  if  we  should  forget  to  renew  it 
from  hour  to  hour,  (as  good  souls  commonly  do,)  and  not  re- 
tract it  by  any  act  of  our  will,  (if  no  mortal  sin  comes  in  the 
way,)  our  first  good  offering  secures  all  we  do  for  the  day. 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  825 

What  a  comfort  that  is !  Yet  do  not  neglect  to  renew  your 
offering  from  time  to  time,  when  you  can  think  of  it, — espe- 
cially our  principal  actions, — uniting  them  to  those  of  our 
dear  Saviour,  and  reviewing  them  now  and  then ;  for  it  often 
happens  that  we  begin  well,  but  suffer  many  mi£«ries  of  na- 
ture to  slip  in  before  we  finish." 

After  stating  the  fundamental  principles  of  a  spiritual 
Life,  she  explains  the  difficulties  that  stand  in  the  way  of  it. 
"  You  wish  so  much  to  be  good  and  to  please  our  dear  Lord, 
that  you  will  not  be  tired  if  I  tell  you  what  the  spiritual 
guide  says  of  the  obstacles  to  our  interior  life.  The  first  is, 
the  little  knowledge  we  have  of  ourselves  and  of  our  faults; 
for,  as  by  an  interior  life  we  wish  to  be  united  to  our  Lord, 
a  pure  heart  must  be  prepared,  in  which  He  may  reign  as 
in  his  own  kingdom.  Self-love  does  not  like  to  hear  it,  but 
our  heart  is  very  corrupt,  and  we  must  do  continual  violence 
to  our  bad  nature  to  keep  it  in  order.  Our  love  of  God  i& 
always  opposed  by  our  self-love ;  our  love  of  one  another  by 
the  miserable  pride  and  pretension  which  creates  jealousy, 
rash  judgment,  and  the  pitiful  dislikes  and  impatience  which 
so  often  trouble  us  and  wound  charity.  Curiosity,  too,  which 
keeps  us  engaged  in  what  is  doing  and  saying,  brings  home 
many  a  foolish  companion  for  our  thoughts,  to  break  the 
silence  and  peace  our  Lord  desires  to  find  in  us.  Who  that 
reflect  on  their  own  nature  can  doubt  of  its  corruption  and 
misery  ?  You  know  how  unwilling  we  are  to  deny  ourselves, 
how  unwilling  to  be  reproved  or  contradicted,  how  trifling  a 
thing  will  make  us  sad,  how  we  delight  to  be  commended, 
while,  with  a  sort  of  natural  cruelty,  we  see  blame  and  fault 
in  others  which  we  are  scarcely  willing  to  excuse.  How 
should  we  livo  an  interior  life  until  some  of  our  natural  rub- 
bish is  removed?  how  walk  valiantly  with  our  Saviour,  drag- 
ging our  foolish  attachments  after  us,  and  ready  to  faint  if 
the  least  weight  of  his  cross  presses  on  us  ?  The  less  sensible 
28 


326  THE   LIFE   or 

we  are  of  our  misery  the  greater  our  evil  is,  for  an  iinmor- 
tified  soul  cannot  bear  to  hear  the  truth  nor  to  be  reproved 
even  for  its  evident  faults ;  so  it  remains  buried  in  its  dark- 
ness, and  the  enemy  tries  to  double  its  blindness,  while,  sick 
and  weak,  it  scarcely  struggles  against  its  imperfections, 
much  less  thinks  of  entering  the  sanctuary  of  an  interior 
life.  How  is  it  that  many  of  us  keep  the  rule  as  to  the 
lettei  of  it,  and  also  look  pious  enough?  there  is  no  want 
of  good- will  nor  idleness  indulged ;  and  in  a  house  where 
it  would  seem  so  easy  to  become  saints,  you  would  say,  What 
is  the  matter?  why  are  we  not  saints?  why  is  there  so  little 
progress  in  perfection,  or  rather,  why  are  so  many  tepid, 
heavy,  discouraged,  and  going  along  more  like  slaves  in  a 
workhouse  than  children  in  their  own  home  and  the  house 
of  their  Father  ?  Why  ?  Because  we  do  not  watch  over  our 
interior,  do  not  watch  the  impulse  of  nature  and  grace  in 
our  actions,  nor  avoid  the  occasions  of  the  habitual  faults 
we  live  in,  when  it  is  in  our  power,  or  keep  a  good  guard 
on  ourselves  when  it  is  not.  Frequent  indulgence  of  useless 
thoughts,  inconsiderate  words,  expressions  of  natural  feel- 
ing, and  changes  of  temper,  all  stand  at  variance  with  our 
sweet  interior  life,  and  stop  the  operations  of  grace,  too 
often,  indeed,  even  to  grieving  the  Divine  Spirit  and  send- 
ing him  away.  One  immortified  passion,  a  single  bad  habit 
not  corrected,  a  natural  attachment,  though  innocent  as  to 
appearances,  will  stand  like  a  big  stone  at  the  door  of  our 
heart,  and  prevent  us  for  whole  years  from  advancing  in  the 
kingdom  of  our  Lord.  For  how  can  such  imperfection  and 
miseries  produce  a  spiritual  harvest,  any  more  than  a 
laborer,  throwing  his  grain  in  hard  and  dry  earth  covered 
with  thorns  and  weeds,  could  expect  to  reap  his  produce  ? 
Will  you,  too,  shut  your  heart  to  grace  ?  You  can  make  so 
fair  a  beginning  now;  if  you  only  go  to  work  courageously, 
you  will  so  soon  gather  the  fruits  of  your  care;  but  if  you 


MBS.  E.   A.   8ETON.  827 

do  not,  your  soul,  unfaithful  to  its  beautiful  grace,  will  grow 
weaker  and  weaker,  and  drag  life  along  like  a  sad  slavery, 
instead  of  a  prelude  to  the  joys  of  eternity,  which  it  really 
should  be  in  our  blessed  condition,  when  our  very  pains  and 
trials  are  but  gems  for  our  crown,  if  we  use  them  in  the 
beautiful  spirit  of  our  rule.  One  particular  point  you  must 
attend  to :  as  soon  as  you  have  committed  a  fault,  make  your 
quick  act  of  contrition  for  it,  for  fear  it  draw  you  into  an- 
other, as  one  weight  pulls  another  after  it.  Make  your  sin- 
cere acts  of  contrition  by  a  loving  and  sorrowful  turn  of 
your  heart  to  our  dear  Saviour;  and  then,  instead  of  ponder- 
ing on  the  fault,  try  to  think  no  more  about  it,  only  to  guard 
against  repeating  it,  or  to  say  Paters  and  Aves  in  penance 
for  it  while  you  work.  Every  day  must  bring  its  trials : 
why,  then,  should  we  be  troubled  and  surprised  ?  Young 
people  especially  should  fight  cheerfully,  since  our  Lord  has 
so  kindly  called  you  in  the  morning  of  your  days,  and  not 
exposed  you  to  the  anguish  and  remorse  we  feel  after  BO 
many  years  of  sin.  It  moves  my  very  soul  to  see  you  young 
ones  taken  and  sheltered  by  our  dear  Lord ;  and  yet  you 
often  look  ungrateful.  .  .  .  Can  you  expect  to  go  to  heaven 
for  nothing  ?  Did  not  our  dear  Saviour  track  the  whole  way 
to  it  with  his  tears  and  blood?  and  yet  you  start  at  every 
little  pain ! .  .  .  The  gate  of  heaven  is  very  low;  the  humble 
only  can  enter  it ;  the  path  to  it  is  very  narrow,  and  beset 
with  our  bad  habits,  our  evil  inclinations  and  deceiving  pas- 
sions ;  they  all  unite  together  to  draw  us  aside,  and,  unless 
we  are  always  on  the  watch,  we  soon  go  astray.  .  .  .  You 
think  it  very  hard  to  lead  a  life  of  such  restraint,  unless  you 
keep  your  eye  of  faith  always  open.  Perseverance  is  a 
great  grace.  To  go  on  gaining  and  advancing  every  day,  we 
must  be  resolute,  and  bear  and  suffer  what  our  blessed  fore- 
lunners  did.  Which  of  them  gained  heaven  without  a  com- 
bat ?  Which  way  did  they  get  there,  and  by  what  road  t 


S28  THE    LIFE    Of 

Some  of  them  came  out  of  caves  and  deserts  in  which  tL«j 
had  lived  buried  from  the  world  and  the  enemies  of  God ; 
others  from  prisons  and  dungeons — glorious  confessors  of 
the  faith ;  others  covered  with  their  blood,  which  they  shed 
for  it.  We  are  inheritors  of  this  faith,  but  are  not  tried  aa 
they  were.  What  are  our  real  trials  ?  By  what  name  shall 
we  call  them?  One  cuts  herself  out  a  cross  of  pride,  another 
of  causeless  discontent,  another  of  restless  impatience  or 
peevish  fretfulness ;  but  is  the  whole  any  better  than  chil- 
dren's play,  if  looked  at  with  the  common  eye  cf  reason, 
much  more  the  pure  eye  of  faith  ?  Yet  we  know  certainly 
that  our  God  calls  us  to  a  holy  life, — that  he  gives  us  every 
grace,  every  abundant  grace ;  and,  though  we  are  so  weak 
of  ourselves,  this  grace  is  able  to  carry  us  through  every  ob- 
stacle and  difficulty;  but  we  want  courage  to  keep  the  con- 
tinual watch  over  nature,  and  therefore,  year  after  year,  with 
our  thousand  graces,  multiplied  resolutions,  and  fair  pro- 
mises, we  run  around  in  a  circle  of  miseries  and  imperfec- 
tions, and,  after  a  long  time  in  the  service  of  God,  come 
nearly  to  the  point  from  whence  we  set  out,  and  perhaps 
with  even  less  ardor  for  penance  and  mortification  than 
when  we  began  our  consecration  to  him.  You  are  now  in 
your  first  set-out :  be  above  the  vain  fears  of  nature  and  ef- 
forts of  your  enemy.  You  are  children  of  eternity :  youi 
immortal  crown  awaits  you,  and  the  best  of  Fathers  wait* 
there  to  reward  your  duty  and  love.  You  may  sow  here  in- 
deed in  tears,  but  you  may  be  sure  there  to  reap  in  joy." 

These  heavenly  maxims,  which  Mother  Seton  delivered  U 
her  spiritual  daughters  as  the  means  of  conducting  them  to 
the  heights  of  Christian  perfection,  were  forcibly  inculcated 
by  her  example.  Obedience  to  the  rule,  conformity  to  the 
will  of  God,  renunciation  of  self,  opposition  to  nature,  fide- 
lity to  every  grace,  all  this  was  clearly  vbible  in  her  actions. 
She  strictly  observed  the  regulations  of  the  house,  and  waa 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETON. 

incessantly  occupied  in  the  duties  of  her  situation,  yet 
always  calm,  self-possessed,  even-tempered,  and  her  soul  ap- 
parently collected  in  God.  It  was  a  favorite  practice  with 
her  to  turn  to  good  account  all  the  little  pains  of  body  and 
mind  which  every  day  brought  forth.  She  was  remarkable 
for  her  love  of  poverty  and  mortification  of  the  senses.  Her 
clothing,  furniture, — even  the  paper  and  pens  which  she  used, 
—indicated  this  spirit  of  self-denial.  Paper  of  fine  quality 
she  denied  herself,  always  preferring  that  of  the  coarsest 
and  cheapest  description.  Her  pens  were  the  refuse  of  the 
class-rooms.  One  day  a  sister  having  observed  to  her  that 
her  pens  were  nothing  but  stumps,  she  replied,  smilingly, 
"  Well,  my  dear  one,  that  is  to  atone  for  your  waste  of  pens." 
This  remark,  though  made  in  a  gay  and  playful  manner, 
contained  a  lesson.  Her  mortification  was  not  less  con- 
spicuous. Though  her  health  was  delicate  and  her  stomach 
naturally  weak,  she  would  have  no  other  fare  than  that  of 
the  community,  and  if  any  thing  were  prepared  especially 
for  her  she  would  decline  it,  saying  that  she  owed  an  ex- 
ample to  others,  and  that  what  she  eat  could  not  injure  her 
if  taken  in  small  quantity.  Particularly  assiduous  herself 
in  frequenting  the  holy  communion,  she  endeavored  to  in- 
spire her  community  with  the  same  sentiments  of  lively 
faith,  love,  and  devotion,  which  glowed  in  her  own  bosom. 
She  once  gave  a  gentle  but  keen  reprimand  to  a  young  sis- 
ter who  had  omitted,  on  a  communion-day,  to  approach  the 
holy  table.  Meeting  her  after  mass  and  looking  her  stead- 
fastly in  the  face,  she  asked,  "  Why,  my  dear  child,  did  you 
not  come  to  our  Lord  for  your  recompense  this  morning  ?" 
"  Mother,"  replied  the  sister,  "  I  felt  a  little  weak,  and  took 
•  cup  of  coffee  before  mass."  "Ah,  my  dear  child,"  re- 
joined Mother  Seton,  "  how  could  you  sell  your  God  for  a 
miserable  cup  of  coffee  ?"  The  sick  were  special  objects  of 
ter  care  and  attention  She  visited  them  twice  every  day, 
28* 


830  THE    LIFE    Of 

procuring  for  them  all  the  helps  and  comforts  in  her  power 
When  not  able,  in  consequence  of  indisposition,  to  see  them 
herself,  she  sent  her  assistant,  through  whom  she  made 
every  inquiry  respecting  their  situation.  She  would  often 
say  that  the  sick  were  the  blessing  of  the  house,  intimating 
to  her  spiritual  daughters  the  many  occasions  of  virtue  and 
merit  which  the  infirmities  of  nature  present  when  viewed 
in  the  light  of  faith,  and  displaying  that  example  of  tender 
and  compassionate  care  which  they  would  be  called  upon, 
at  some  future  day,  to  exercise  in  behalf  of  their  suffering 
fellow-creatures.(20) 

Enlightened  and  led  by  such  a  guide,  St.  Joseph's  com- 
munity advanced  rapidly  in  the  ways  of  Christian  perfection, 
and  acquired  a  character  which  made  it  an  object  of  univer- 
sal admiration.  It  was  an  asylum  of  virtue,  happiness,  and 
peace.  The  world,  with  its  harassing  cares  and  dangerous 
allurements,  found  no  admittance  within  its  hallowed  pre- 
cincts. There  God  was  loved,  fraternal  charity  flourished, 
the  maxims  of  the  gospel  reigned  supreme,  and  the  fruits  of 
piety,  which  alone  give  true  contentment  to  the  soul,  were 
gathered  in  the  utmost  profusion.  Such  was  St.  Joseph's 
Valley,  justly  deserving  the  name  bestowed  upon  it  by  a  dis- 
tinguished clergyman  of  that  day, — "  a  paradise  upon  earth," 
— for  here  bloomed  in  all  their  loveliness  the  flowers  of  hea- 
venly virtue. 

During  the  year  following  the  establishment  of  the  novi- 
tiate, several  of  the  sisters  were  sailed  to  their  reward,  leav- 
ing behind  them  a  vivid  recollection  of  their  eminent  virtues 
Sister  Eleanor  Thompson,  who  died  on  the  28th  of  Novem 
her,  1813,  had  been  one  of  the  first  to  enter  the  community 
at  Emmettsburg.  Her  health  being  very  feeble,  she  was  an 
almost  constant  sufferer;  but  she  edified  all  around  her  bj 
her  patience,  meekness,  and  humility,  united  with  great  sim- 
plicity of  manners  and  a  solid  and  unaffected  piety.  Her 


MRS.    £.    A.    8ETON  831 

singular  purity  of  soul  justified  the  belief  that  she  had  never 
forfeited  her  baptismal  innocence.  Six  weeks  after,  (January 
14, 1814,)  the  institution  witnessed  the  death  of  Sister  Bene- 
dicta  Corish,  who  in  the  brief  space  of  nine  months  was  a 
pupil,  a  novice,  a  professed  sister,  and  an  inhabitant  of  eter- 
nity. Her  departure  from  life  at  the  early  age  of  seventeen, 
strengthened  with  all  the  consolations  of  faith,  led  Mother 
Sston  to  call  her  "  a  true  child  of  benediction;"  and  such,  in- 
deed, did  she  deserve  to  be  considered ;  for  she  had  displayed 
a  most  beautiful  example  to  her  companions,  and  always  ap- 
proached the  holy  communion  as  if  for  the  last  time,  and 
with  the  sentiments  of  the  prodigal  child,  except  on  two  oc- 
casions, when  she  went  to  the  holy  table  more  in  the  spirit 
of  Mary  when  she  said  to  the  angel,  "  Behold  the  handmaid 
of  the  Lord !"  On  the  1st  of  December,  the  same  year,  Sister 
Agnes  Duffy  exchanged  the  trials  of  this  world  for  the  recom- 
pense of  the  just.  She  was  remarkable  for  meekness  and 
amiability,  which  shone  conspicuous  in  her  countenance  and 
actions.  In  a  few  weeks  the  community  was  deprived  of 
another  member,  whose  eminent  talents  and  virtues  caused 
her  loss  to  be  deeply  felt.  Sister  Catharine  Mullen  had  be- 
come an  associate  of  Mother  Seton  before  the  removal  of  the 
sisterhood  from  Baltimore.  From  her  earliest  years  she 
had  given  her  heart  to  God,  who  rewarded  her  fidelity  with 
the  grace  of  a  religious  vocation.  Though  her  constitution 
was  very  delicate,  she  filled  several  important  offices  at  the 
sisterhood.  At  the  first  election  in  1812,  she  was  appointed 
treasurer,  and  as  such  held  a  place  in  the  council,  for  the 
duties  of  which  she  was  particularly  qualified.  The  follow- 
ing year,  a  novitiate  having  been  opened,  she  was  charged 
with  the  important  duty  of  instilling  into  the  candidates  for 
the  sisterhood  the  spirit  of  their  sacred  calling.  No  mem- 
ber of  the  house  could  have  performed  this  office  with  greater 
advantage  to  religion.  She  was  little  acquainted  with  the 


332  THE    LIFE    0* 

wisdom  of  the  world,  but,  well  versed  in  the  science  of  the 
saints,  she  was  eminently  fitted  to  lead  souls  in  the  way  to 
perfection.  Zeal  for  the  common  good,  humility  with  a 
total  disregard  of  self,  a  spirit  of  mortification  and  an  exact 
observance  of  rule,  were  the  distinguishing  traits  in  the  vir- 
tue of  Sister  Catharine.  One  of  her  practices  was  to  inspire 
others  with  a  contempt  of  her  person.  She  had  very  delicate 
and  well-formed  hands,  which  were  much  admired  by  the 
young  ladies  of  the  school.  One  day,  perceiving  that  her 
hands  had  attracted  attention,  she  stained  them  with  walnut- 
juice,  in  order  to  give  them  an  unsightly  appearance.  Such 
was  her  tender  devotion  to  the  sacred  infancy  of  our  Lord 
that  she  could  not  name  the  Divine  Infant  without  being 
affected  to  tears.  Gifted  with  a  particular  talent  for  the  in- 
struction of  young  persons,  she  took  great  delight  in  teaching 
the  children  of  the  village  and  the  boarders  of  the  academy, 
in  preparing  them  for  their  first  communion,  and  pointing 
out  to  them  afterward  the  means  of  persevering  in  the  love 
and  service  of  God.  It  seemed  as  if  the  Almighty  wished 
to  manifest  a  special  favor  toward  his  faithful  spouse,  even 
in  this  world;  for  bodily  sufferings  were  never  wanting,  par 
ticularly  during  the  last  two  years  of  her  life,  which  she  ter- 
minated, in  the  most  fervent  sentiments,  on  the  festival  of 
Christmas, — a  day  peculiarly  cherished  by  her,  it  being  de- 
voted to  the  commemoration  of  the  temporal  birth  and  infancy 
of  the  Word  made  flesh.  Early  in  the  morning  of  that  day 
she  had  the  happiness  of  being  united  to  the  Divine  Infant 
in  the  sacrament  of  his  love,  having  been  conveyed  to  the 
chapel  in  an  arm-chair;  but,  her  last  moments  rapidly  ap- 
proaching, she  had  the  privilege  of  again  receiving  him  in 
the  holy  Viaticum,  and  before  midnight  her  spirit  had  *aken 
its  flight  to  enjoy,  says  Mother  Seton,  "a  third  communion 
»t  the  foot  of  the  throne  above." 

While  some  among  the  sisters  of  St.  Joseph  were  thuj 


MRS.  £.   A.    8ETON.  833 

called  to  their  heavenly  reward,  others  were  destined  in  the 
designs  of  Providence  to  extend  the  lahors  of  the  institute 
on  earth,  and  to  diffuse  in  the  midst  of  populous  cities  the 
blessings  of  that  charity  which  burned  with  so  much  fervor 
in  the  mother-house.  Oftentimes,  when  enjoying  their 
recreation  in  some  shady  grove  or  on  the  banks  of  the 
pleasant  stream  that  flowed  by  the  institution,  had  the  sisters 
conversed  together  on  the  future  that  was  in  store  for  the 
society  On  these  occasions,  surrounding  their  venerated 
superior,  they  would  speak  their  sentiments  freely,  each  one 
expressing  her  own  ideas  on  the  subject.  Some  wondered 
if  the  Almighty  would  ever  enable  them  to  extend  their 
sphere  of  usefulness;  others  said,  "Here  we  are  buried  in 
the  midst  of  woods  and  valleys :  nobody  knows  what  we  are 
doing,  and  truly  the  world  forgets  us."  One  day,  amid  the 
various  speculations  that  were  put  forth,  a  young,  playful 
sister,  who  had  been  listening  in  silence  to  the  remarks  of 
the  others,  cried  out,  "  My  dear  children,  don't  grieve  so 
much;  depend  upon  it,  the  valley,  quiet  as  it  is,  will  give 
such  a  roar  one  day  that  the  noise  will  sound  over  all  Ame- 
rica Don't  you  remember  what  was  said  of  the  silence  of 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas?"  Mother  Seton  was  highly  amused  at 
the  gravity  of  this  young  prophetess,  while  many  observed 
that  the  prediction  would  not  be  accomplished  in  their  time 
The  period  of  its  fulfilment,  however,  had  now  arrived. 

Since  the  year  1797,  a  charitable  effort  had  been  made, 
by  an  association  of  persons  in  Philadelphia,  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  children,  male  and  female,  whose  parents  had 
f-illen  victims  to  the  yellow  fever.  These  orphans  were  at 
first  boarded  with  a  suitable  person,  but  were  subsequently 
removed  to  a  house  rented  for  the  purpose,  adjoining  the 
church  of  Holy  Trinity  where  they  were  placed  under  the 
charge  of  a  matron.  From  its  commencement  this  good 
work  had  to  c^nteud  with  many  difficulties.  To  the  Rer 


881  THE    LIFE    OF 

Michael  Hurley,  who  had  become  pastor  of  St.  A-ugustin's 
Church  in  1807,  it  was  much  indebted  for  his  indefatigable 
exertions  in  its  behalf.  Mr.  Cornelius  Tiers  also  deserves 
to  be  mentioned  in  this  connection  for  the  generous  and  op- 
portune aid  which  he  rendered  to  the  institution.*  The 
trustees  of  Trinity  Church  were  the  managers  of  the  asylum, 
and,  with  a  view  to  its  better  organization,  they  applied  in 
1814,  through  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hurley,  to  procure  the  servicei 
of  the  Sisters  of  Charity.  Notwithstanding  the  difficulties  of 
the  times, f  the  government  at  St.  Joseph's  readily  acceded 
to  their  request.  Mother  Seton  was  filled  with  joy  and 
gratitude  at  the  opportunity  of  serving  the  poor  orphans. 
Three  sisters  were  at  once  appointed  for  the  mission  at 
Philadelphia,  of  which  Sister  Rose  White  was  to  have  the 
superior  charge,  under  the  title  of  Sister-servant.  On  hear- 
ing that  she  had  been  selected  to  preside  over  the  asylum, 
her  humility  was  greatly  alarmed,  and  she  wrote  to  Arch- 
bishop Carroll,  expressing  to  him  her  fears  lest  the  good 
work  should  suffer  from  her  want  of  talent  and  virtue.  Hei 
sentiments  deserve  to  be  recorded  : — 

"  MOST  REVEREND  AND  DEAR  FATHER  : — 

"  I  think  I  can  see  your  surprise  when  you  heard  of  the 
choice  made  to  send  poor  Rose  to  Philadelphia,  knowing  so 
well  as  you  do  how  little  capacity  I  have  for  any  good  and 
my  little  judgment  for  managing,  and  how  much  may  b« 
epoiiod  by  my  being  sent  as  sister-servant  to  any  city ;  but 
God's  will  be  done  1  and  pray,  my  dear  Father,  that  1  may 
prove  no  obstacle  to  the  good  in  view  nor  a  scandal  to  the 

*  The  particulars  regarding  the  first  beginnings  of  this  asylum  ban 
been  taken  from  an  article  in  the  Catholic  Herald  of  Philadelphia,  Sep- 
tember 30,  1852.W 

t  W*r  was  now  carried  on  between  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain. 


MRS.   E.   A.   8ETON.  335 

community.  I  am  as  one  stupid  and  all  surprised ;  I  know 
nothing,  and  can  see  nothing  but  my  ignorance  and  weak- 
ness, which  is  ever  before  me.  If  any  good  is  done,  it  will 
be  God  alone,  who  will  and  can  do  it ;  as  for  me,  I  know 
nothing  but  sin,  and  an  unhappy  disposition  of  impatience, 
which  has  caused  myself  and  others  much  pain  in  thin 
blessed  family,  where  I  have  often  rendered  myself  an  un- 
worthy member  of  it." 

Such  was  the  true  spirit  in  which  she  prepared  herself 
to  obtain  the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  her  charitable  labors; 
for  God  resists  the  proud  and  gives  his  grace  to  the  humble, 
and  never  fails  to  crown  with  success  the  efforts  of  those 
who  rely  solely  upon  his  assistance.  Having  made  the 
necessary  preparations,  the  sisters  set  out  upon  their  jour- 
ney on  the  20th  of  September,  1814,  and  travelled  in  a  hired 
conveyance  by  land, — as  it  was  the  time  of  the  embargo,  when 
the  Chesapeake  Bay  was  infested  with  the  hostile  fleet  of  the 
British,  and  packet  navigation  was  unsafe.  For  the  purpose 
of  saving  expense,  they  were  directed,  so  far  as  circumstances 
would  permit,  to  ask  hospitality  on  the  way ;  and  they  ex- 
perienced much  kindness  from  the  Catholic  families  that  en- 
tertained them.  On  arriving  at  the  asylum  in  Philadel- 
phia, the  sisters  immediately  repaired  to  the  church  adjoin- 
ing it,  to  offer  their  homage  of  adoration  and  gratitude ;  aftei 
which  they  took  lodgings  at  the  residence  of  a  friend,  where 
they  remained  for  several  days,  the  asylum  being  still  occu- 
pied by  the  matron,  who  also  owned  the  furniture  of  the 
house.  The  requisite  arrangements  having  been  made,  thej 
took  possession  of  the  institution  on  the  6th  of  October,  hay- 
ing thirteen  children,  boys  and  girls,  under  their  care.*  But 

*  The  sisters  did  not  approve  of  receiving  boys  and  girls  into  the 
lame  asylum ;  but  the  inconvenience  was  at  first  tolerated,  owing  to  th« 
difficulty  of  placing  them  in  separate  establishment*,  which  was  effected 
»t  a  subsequent  period. 


330  THE    LIFE    Of 

such  was  the  condition  of  the  asylum  that  it  afforded  ample 
work  for  the  zeal  of  the  good  sisters.  The  children  were  in 
a  ragged  state,  with  scarcely  a  change  of  clothing,  and  the 
small  number  of  beds  in  the  house  was  not  half  sufficient  for 
their  proper  accommodation.  Nor  was  the  prospect  of  meet- 
ing the  wants  of  the  establishment  very  cheering.  Four 
thousand  dollars  were  still  due  upon  the  house ;  the  sum  al- 
lowed by  the  managers  for  the  support  of  the  asylum  was 
limited  to  six  hundred ;  and  the  price  of  provisions,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  difficulties  with  Great  Britain,  was  remarkably 
high.  A  society  of  ladies  had  been  formed  to  aid  the  funds 
of  the  asylum,  and  by  this  means  some  portion  of  the  ex- 
pense was  paid  j  but  the  sisters  were  disposed  to  rely  chiefly 
upon  their  economical  management  and  their  influence  with 
the  public,  in  order  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  institution 
from  the  charities  which  they  solicited.  Hence,  they  suf- 
fered many  privations  in  the  beginning,  procuring  for  them- 
selves and  the  children  the  bare  necessaries  of  life.  For 
three  months  they  ate  no  bread  whatever  at  their  principal 
meal,  but  used  potatoes,  which  during  the  first  year  were 
their  chief  subsistence.  Their  coffee,  made  of  corn,  was 
taken  without  sugar,  and  the  fuel  for  their  fire  was  gathered 
from  the  tanyards.  As  soon  as  their  wants  became  gene- 
rally known,  many  persons  presented  themselves  as  friends  of 
the  institution.  One  day,  the  sisters  being  too  much  occu- 
pied at  home,  an  orphan  was  despatched  to  the  market  with 
twelve  and  a  half  cents,  all  the  money  in  the  house,  to  :uy  a 
shin  of  beef.  A  few  hours  after,  the  child  returned  to  the 
asylum  with  a  large  piece  of  meat,  her  twelve  and  a  Lalf 
cents,  and  fifty  cents  more,  telling  the  sisters  that  an  old 
market-woman,  finding  that  she  was  one  of  the  orphans,  had 
given  her  the  money  and  meat,  and  authorized  them  to  call 
upon  her  for  assistance  whenever  they  were  in  want.  This 
old  woman  became  a  generous  friend  of  the  institution.  By 


MRS.   £     A.    6ETON.  337 

the  benevolence  of  herself  and  others  it  gradually  acquired 
ampler  resources,  and  was  enabled  to  maintain  under  ita 
charitable  roof  an  increasing  number  of  orphans.  The  spirit 
of  disinterestedness  displayed  by  the  sisters,  and  their  self- 
denying  devotion  to  the  care  of  the  helpless  and  forlorn, 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  those  who  witnessed  their 
charitable  labors,  and  won  for  the  institution  the  sympathy 
and  aid  of  a  numerous  circle.  It  was  also  a  proud  day  for 
the  Catholics  of  Philadelphia  when  they  could  point  to  St. 
Joseph's  Asylum  as  an  illustration  of  that  eminent  virtue  for 
which  the  true  Church  alone  is  distinguished,  which  leads 
her  children  to  sacrifice  all  the  comforts  of  life  for  the  love 
of  Christ  and  the  cause  of  suffering  humanity.  "When  1 
contrast  the  amiable  and  devout  conduct  of  our  sisters  with 
that  of  worldlings,"  writes  a  lady  of  that  place,  "I  love  reli- 
gion and  our  Lord  tenfold  more.  They  are  the  pride  of  our 
city  and  the  ornament  of  our  religion  :  they  are  loved  by 
every  one."  Thus  did  the  first  institution  of  the  Sisters  of 
Charity  abroad  commence  under  many  difficulties,  which, 
however,  soon  disappeared  by  the  effect  of  a  wise  administra- 
tion and  of  the  edifying  zeal  with  which  they  performed  the 
duties  of  their  charge.  In  the  course  of  three  years  the 
house  was  free  from  debt  and  gave  promise  of  increasing 
prosperity.  From  this  humble  beginning,  which  Mother 
Seton  used  to  call  the  "  little  mustard-seed,"  has  arisen  in 
the  course  of  time  a  magnificent  institution,  which  now 
graces  the  city  of  Philadelphia  and  exhibits  the  exercise  of 
the  noblest  charity  on  the  most  extensive  scale.* 

About  this  time,  the  Rev.  Mr.  David,  who  had  esta- 
blished a  society  of  Sisters  of  Charity  in  Kentucky,  conceived 
ihe  project  of  incorporating  them  with  the  society  at  Em- 


*  St.  Joseph's  Female  Asylum.    The  bojs  were  subsequently  trans- 
ferred to  a  separate  asylum, — St.  John's. 
29  W 


338  THE    LIFE    O? 

mettsburg.  The  institution  in  Kentucky  had  been  com- 
menced toward  the  end  of  the  year  1812.  "Besides  aspi- 
ring to  the  practice  of  religious  perfection,  by  fulfilling  the 
three  ordinary  vows  of  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience,  the 
members  of  the  sisterhood  were  to  devote  their  lives  to  such 
works  of  mercy,  both  corporeal  and  spiritual,  in  behalf  of  the 
neighbor,  as  might  come  within  their  reach;  and  also  to 
apply  themselves  to  the  education  of  young  persons  of  their 
own  sex  in  all  the  branches  of  female  instruction.  To  these 
occupations  they  were  to  add  the  instruction  of  poor  chil- 
dren and  servants  in  the  catechism,  and  the  visiting  of  the 
sick,  without  distinction  of  creed,  ae  far  as  might  be  com- 
patible with  the  other  duties  of  their  institution."*  This 
society,  as  is  commonly  the  case  with  institutions  of  a  similar 
nature,  had  an  humble  beginning,  but  soon  increased  in  num- 
ber, and  prospered  beyond  the  most  sanguine  expectations 
of  its  holy  founder.  "  The  sisters  edified  all  by  their  piety 
and  laborious  life  "  For  two  years  they  observed  a  provi- 
sional rule  which  had  been  drawn  up  by  Father  David ;  but  it 
was  at  length  determined  that  they  should  adopt  the  consti- 
tutions of  the  Daughters  of  Charity  founded  by  St.  Vincent  of 
Paul.  At  the  same  time  they  chose  a  religious  uniform, 
consisting  of  a  black  habit  and  cape,  and  of  a  cap  which  was 
at  first  black,  but  was  afterward  exchanged  for  one  of 
white.f  Such  was  the  commencement  of  that  excellent  so- 
ciety whose  members  are  known  under  the  title  of  Sisters  of 
Charity  of  Nazareth  and  have  their  mother-house  in  th« 
vicinity  of  Bardstown.  By  their  pious  labors  they  have  ren- 
dered and  still  render  to  religion  and  society  the  most  im- 


*  Sketches  of  Kentucky,  by  the  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Spalding,  p.  229. 

f  Sketches  of  Kentucky.  In  this  valuable  work  the  reader  will  find 
»  detailed  account  of  the  origin  and  progress  of  the  Sisters  of  Nazareth, 
p.  229  et  seq. 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETON.  339 

portant  services,  by  the  various  educational  and  charitable 
establishments  under  their  charge. 

After  the  society  had  adopted  the  rules  observed  by  the 
spiritual  daughters  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul,  Father  David 
aonceived  the  idea  of  uniting  it  with  the  institution  at  Em- 
mettsburg,  which  was  governed  by  the  same  constitutions, 
though  distinguished  by  a  somewhat  different  uniform.  To 
effect  his  purpose,  he  addressed  several  letters  on  the  sub- 
ject to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  superior  of  the  sisters  of  St. 
Joseph,  who  assented  to  the  proposal,  but  on  conditions 
which  were  considered  too  onercus  by  Father  David.  The 
latter  desired  a  separate  novitiate  to  be  established  in  Ken- 
tucky, and  also  that  the  superior  should  have  the  title  of 
Mother,  as  given  to  the  head-sister  at  St.  Joseph's.  To  the 
latter  requirement,  Mr.  Dubois  made  an  absolute  objection, 
and  the  former  he  was  willing  to  accept  only  on  condition 
that  it  could  be  justified  by  a  precedent  among  the  Daughters 
of  Charity  in  France.  He  also  demanded  that  the  branch  in 
Kentucky  should  not  dinit  a  greater  number  of  members 
than  the  bishop  of  the  diocese  would  engage  to  support, 
until  a  security  for  their  maintenance  had  been  otherwise 
provided.  These  views  on  one  side  and  the  other  gave  rise 
to  difficulties  which  could  not  be  satisfactorily  adjusted,  and 
thus  caused  the  failure  of  the  negotiation.  The  event,  how- 
ever, showed  that,  although  organized  under  separate  govern- 
ments, the  two  societies  could  pursue  their  labor  of  love  with 
a  perfect  union  of  hearts,  and  by  the  divine  blessing  co- 
operate most  successfully  in  the  accomplishment  of  the  same 
glorious  object. 

In  the  institution  over  which  Mother  Seton  presided,  she 
wag  the  guiding  spirit  of  the  literary  as  well  as  of  the  reli- 
gious department.  In  the  early  days  of  the  academy  she 
herself  took  charge  of  the  highest  class  among  the  pupils; 
but  when  she  hud  the  aid  of  more  numerous  instructors  sh« 


340  THE    LIFE    OF 

resigned  most  of  her  scholastic  duties  to  other  hands.  Every 
day  she  visited  the  class-rooms,  to  show  the  interest  which 
she  felt  in  the  improvement  of  the  pupils,  to  speak  a  few 
words  of  encouragement  and  edification,  and  to  give  such 
directions  as  circumstances  might  require.  Nothing  but 
sickness  prevented  her  from  manifesting  this  mark  of  her 
golicitude  for  the  children  confided  to  her  care.  On  one 
occasion,  when  confined  to  her  room,  she  observed  to  the 
sister  who  had  the  principal  care  of  the  boarders : — "  I  feel 
uneasy  sometimes  that  I  cannot  take  my  daily  walk  and  see 
the  dear  girls;  yet  I  console  myself  with  the  thought  of 
your  being  there,  for  you  have  a  mother's  heart."  She  felt 
all  the  importance  and  responsibility  of  her  station  as  the 
guide  and  instructress  of  female  youth,  and  it  was  her  con- 
tinual effort,  by  word  and  example,  as  well  as  by  constant 
vigilance,  to  promote  the  moral  and  physical  welfare  of  all 
under  her  charge.  The  young  ladies  of  the  school  she  re- 
garded as  a  sacred  trust,  committed  to  her  by  Divine  Provi- 
dence, and  to  be  cultivated  with  a  solicitude  similar  to  that 
which  the  Almighty  himself  evinces  for  his  creatures.  Her 
direction  to  the  sisters  who  had  the  particular  care  of  them 
was,  "  Be  to  them  as  our  guardian  angels  are  to  us."  Such 
was  the  character  which  she  herself  exhibited  in  their  re- 
gard; watching  over  them  with  the  most  unremitting  atten- 
tion, and  forming  them,  by  her  actions  and  instructions,  to 
the  practice  of  the  moral  and  social  virtues.  When  she  ap- 
peared before  them,  they  beheld  in  her  a  lady  who  had 
adorned  the  most  polished  circles  of  life,  and  whose  manners 
and  disposition  they  might  justly  strive  to  imitate,  to  be- 
come at  a  future  day  the  ornaments  of  society.  In  her  they 
beheld  a  woman  who  had  traversed  the  various  relations  of 
daughter,  wife,  and  mother,  wi»fl  the  highept  honor  to  her- 
self, and  whose  lessons  were  the  fruit  of  reflection  matured 
by  experience.  J3ut;  abovn  al»,  they  saw  in  her  the  a.xxwr 


MBS     E     A.    8ETON.  841 

pushed  Christian,  whose  warmest  aspirations  were  for  heaven 
and  for  the  salvation  of  souls;  who  endeavored  by  a  uniform 
charity  and  sweetness  of  manner  to  win  all  to  the  love  and 
service  of  God.  Hence  the  presence  of  Mother  Seton  was 
hailed  with  pleasure  by  her  pupils.  On  her  visit  to  the 
classes  every  eye  beamed  a  welcome;  for  it  was  the  signal 
that  their  best  friend  and  true  mother  had  come  among 
them.  To  excite  the  emulation  of  the  pupils,  the  most 
effectual  means  were  employed,  but  chiefly  those  which  ap- 
pealed to  their  sense  of  honor  and  obligation.  Weekly  re- 
ports, regarding  their  diligence  in  study  and  their  deport- 
ment, were  read  aloud  in  the  refectory,  in  presence  of  the 
whole  community;  and  to  such  as  had  distinguished  them- 
selves by  their  application  and  good  conduct,  honorable  tes- 
timonials were  awarded  at  the  end  of  the  scholastic  year. 
The  health  of  the  young  ladies  was  a  special  object  of  Mo- 
ther Seton's  vigilance.  She  took  care  that  they  were  sup- 
plied with  a  wholesome  and  abundant  diet,  and  that  the 
hours  of  study  were  interrupted  by  proper  intervals  of  re- 
creation, during  which  they  indulged  in  a  variety  of  healthy 
amusements.  Frequently  they  made  excursions  to  the 
neighboring  mountain,  forming  a  pic-nic  party,  or  engaging 
in  other  diversions  equally  profitable  and  delightful.  Upon 
the  sick  pupils  Mother  Seton  bestowed  the  most  watchful 
attention.  Every  comfort  was  provided  for  them  that  the 
house  could  afford,  and,  that  nothing  might  be  omitted  in 
this  respect,  she  never  failed,  when  the  importance  of  the 
case  seemed  to  require  it,  to  give  timely  notice  to  parents  of 
their  children's  indisposition.  It  was  her  custom  also  to 
keep  them  duly  informed  in  regard  to  the  proficiency  of  their 
daughters,  and  occasionally  to  request  their  co-operation  in 
the  correction  of  their  faults,  when  the  ordinary  methods  of 
doing  this  had  proved  ineffectual.  In  general,  however,  she 

thought  it  more  wise  not  to  acquaint  parents  with  the  fail- 
29* 


842  THE    LIFE    OF' 

ings  of  their  children,  knowing  how  peculiarly  sensitiv* 
Americans  are  on  this  point.  According  to  her  view,  where 
the  fault  is  not  to  he  corrected  immediately  by  the  parents, 
but  rather  by  advice  and  education,  it  is  best  not  to  inform 
them  of  it,  as  they  would  consider  it  a  reflection  on  them- 
selves; and  although,  if  you  referred  the  matter  to  them, 
they  would  apparently  acquiesce  in  what  you  say,  in  their 
heart  they  would  extenuate  the  fault,  whatever  it  might  fee, 
excusing  to  their  children  what  they  condemn  to  their  supe- 
riors, and  thus  rendering  fruitless  any  subsequent  efforts  for 
their  improvement.  In  this,  as  well  as  in  all  other  matters 
appertaining  to  the  interest  and  happiness  of  those  under 
her  charge,  Mother  Seton  pursued  that  course  which  ap- 
peared best  calculated  to  promote  their  welfare  and  at  the 
same  time  to  save  their  parents  unnecessary  pain  and  anx- 
iety. Entering  fully  into  the  feelings  of  the  parental  heart, 
she  knew  what  they  could  bear  and  what  it  was  expedient 
for  them  to  receive,  and  with  the  greatest  delicacy  did  she 
regulate  her  communications  to  the  parents,  always  endea- 
voring to  impart  the  word  of  comfort  and  gratification,  and 
never  withholding  what  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  know. 
On  one  occasion,  writing  to  a  person  who  had  a  daughter  at 
St.  Joseph's,  she  says,  "I  have  continually  deferred  an- 
swering your  obliging  letter,  always  hoping  to  say  something 
consoling  to  the  heart  of  a  parent,  and  unable  to  force  my- 
self to  do  the  contrary;  and  now  with  pleasure  can  assure 
you  that  your  dear  daughter  has  shown  a  considerable  per- 
severance in  her  good  determinations  for  some  time  past," 
<fcc.  Another  time,  a  pious  lady,  very  solicitous  about  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  her  child,  and  expecting  rather  more 
than  she  was  capable  of  at  her  age,  received  from  Mother 
Seton  the  following  answer : — "  My  dearest  loved  friend — I 
think  you  are  too  anxious  for  the  fruit  of  your  dear  little 
tree,  which  is  ripening  very  fast,  and  will  soon  be  as  you 


MRS.    £.    A.    SET  ON.  843 

wish  it.  Quite  sure  as  to  the  point  of  instruction — yet  J 
tried  to  draw  out  all  her  little  thoughts  on  the  questions 
you  proposed,  and  see  a  heavenly  simplicity  and  purity  of 
mind  preparing  the  way  to  the  most  blessed  fruits  of  faith. 
But  we  must  wait  for  these  fruits;  for,  if  there  is  a  true  dan- 
ger for  one  of  her  turn,  it  would  he  to  push  her  too  fast,  and 
force  an  exterior  look  without  the  interior  spirit."  Well 
could  parents  intrust  their  children  to  the  direction  of  so 
wise  and  prudent  a  preceptress;  for,  if  she  avoided  on  the 
one  hand  that  weak  condescension  which  overlooks  instead 
of  correcting  a  fault,  she  understood  on  the  other  the  neces- 
sity of  training  the  heart  gradually,  and  not  forcing  habits 
which  must  be  the  result  of  repeated  and  patient  instruction, 
and  the  formation  of  which  can  be  expected  only  after  hav- 
ing gained  the  confidence  of  youth.  She  thus  wrote  to  a 
pious  gentleman  who  had  a  relative  at  St.  Joseph's  school, 
whom  he  had  lectured  in  too  reproachful  a  tone  by  way  of 
compelling  her  to  her  duty : — "  You  and  I  speak  all  for  eter- 
nity; but  take  an  advice  from  your  old  mother.  I  am  a 
hundred  to  your  thirty  in  experience, — that  cruel  friend  of 
our  earthly  journey.  When  you  ask  too  much  at  first,  you 
often  gain  nothing  at  last;  and  if  the  heart  is  lost,  all  is 
lost.  If  you  use  such  language  to  your  family,  they  cannot 
love  you,  since  they  have  not  our  microscope  to  see  things 
as  they  are.  .  .  .  The  faults  of  young  people  must  be  moved 
by  prayers  and  tears,  because  they  are  constitutional  and 
cannot  be  frightened  out." 

Twice  a  week  Mother  Seton  gave  familiar  instructions  to 
the  elder  boarders,  which  were  most  gratifying  to  them  as 
well  as  to  the  school-sisters,  some  of  whom  were  generally 
present  on  these  occasions.  In  these  conferences  she  dis- 
played her  peculiar  aptitude  for  the  education  of  female 
youth.  You  would  see  there,  not  the  stiffness  of  the  school- 
mistress or  the  cold  stateliness  of  authority,  that  begets  dim- 


844  THE    LIFE    0.? 

dence  or  fear ;  but  the  fond  and  enlightened  parent,  whose 
elevated  purposes,  sincere  zeal,  and  affectionate  manner,  won 
the  hearts  of  her  children  and  inspired  equal  confidence  and 
admiration.  She  then  spoke  to  them,  in  the  most  simple 
style,  of  the  faults  they  were  to  avoid,  the  virtues  they  should 
practise,  and  frequently  illustrated  the  subject  by  allusions 
most  interesting  to  the  youthful  mind.  She  would  say,  for 
instance,  "  Your  little  mother,  my  darlings,  does  not  come 
to  teach  you  how  to  be  good  nuns  or  Sisters  of  Charity;  but 
rather  I  would  wish  to  fit  you  for  that  world  in  which  you 
are  destined  to  live ;  to  teach  you  how  to  be  good  mistresses 
and  mothers  of  families.  Yet,  if  the  dear  Master  selects 
one  among  you  to  be  closer  to  him,  happy  are  you !  he  will 
teach  you  himself."  During  these  instructions,  the  children 
often  proposed  questions  to  Mother  Seton,  who  permitted 
and  encouraged  them  to  do  so.  "  Mother,"  said  a  pupil  on 
one  of  these  occasions,  "I  met  with  the  word  benignity  in 
my  catechism,  and  I  don't  know  exactly  the  meaning  of  it." 
Mother  Seton,  with  a  smile,  replied,  "  My  dearest  one,  I  can 
give  no  better  answer  to  your  question  than  to  say,  'Look 
at  Archbishop  Carroll,'  and  you  will  see  the  meaning  of  this 
word  on  his  countenance  as  well  as  in  his  manners." 

But  the  great  and  absorbing  object  of  Mother  Seton  in 
the  education  of  her  pupils  was  to  form  their  hearts  to  vir- 
tue, and  to  inspire  them  with  a  proper  aversion  for  the  delu- 
sive vanities  and  sinful  pursuits  of  the  world.  She  laid 
before  them  at  various  times,  but  especially  during  the  exer- 
cises of  a  spiritual  retreat  or  the  preparation  for  a  first  com- 
munion, the  necessity  of  salvation,  the  importance  of  attend- 
ing to  their  sanctification,  and  the  means  of  promoting  the 
peace  of  their  souls.  Her  instructions  also  were  character- 
ized by  a  reasoning  accommodated  to  the  circumstances  of 
her  hearers.  She  thus  warned  them  against  the  inconsist- 
ency of  those  who  have  the  courage  to  brook  the  opinions  and 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  845 

obervations  of  the  world  for  the  gratification  of  their  vanity 
or  pride,  while  they  fear  that  same  world  oa  the  question  of 
serving  God.  "  I  have  seen  many  girls  in  the  world  delight- 
ing  even — through  what  they  called  an  independent  spirit, 
but  in  truth  a  silly  pride — to  practise  many  singularities  in 
dress  and  manner.  They  said,  '  I  cannot  help  what  people 
think/  and  they  did  what  was  much  more  difficult  than  to 
observe  the  little  practices  you  are  bound  to,  and  the  sub- 
jection to  the  spirit  of  piety,  which,  while  you  would  preserve 
your  peace  of  conscience,  could  at  last  but  secure  you,  after 
the  first  obstacles  were  overcome,  the  true  love  and  respect 
even  of  those  whose  blame  would  most  discourage  you.  Such 
will  be  the  case  when  they  see  that  your  perseverance  is 
through  a  principle  of  duty :  whereas  this  dirty  world  is  the 
first  to  laugh  at  those  who  subject  themselves  to  it,  especially 
if  this  subjection  is  against  a  better  light,  as  must  be  the 
case  with  any  one  of  you,  who  have  so  often  been  told  your 
plain  duty."  To  impress  upon  her  pupils  sound  principles 
of  morality,  in  opposition  to  the  false  maxims  and  corrupting 
usages  of  the  world,  was  a  particular  object  of  Mother 
Seton's  attention.  She  taught  them  that  beauty  was  but  a 
"superficial  grace;  that  when  a  fair  soul,  however,  is  in  a 
fair  body,  the  latter  may  be  cherished  as  a  gift  of  the 
Creator.  Beauty  should  be  used  as  an  attraction  to  virtue 
When  profaned,  it  is  a  violation  of  the  temple  of  God  and 
tearing  away  the  victims  which  should  have  been  offered  at 
his  altar."  In  regard  to  dress,  her  advice  was  to  shun  sin- 
gularity, and  to  follow  a  middle  course,  avoiding  extrava- 
gance on  the  one  hand  and  carelessness  on  the  other.  But 
the  danger  of  being  present  at  balls,  the  theatre,  &c.  she 
depicted  in  a  forcible  and  impressive  manner.  "  The  fable 
gays  that  a  butterfly  asked  an  owl  what  she  should  do  to 
keep  from  burning  her  wings,  since  she  could  never  come  to 
the  candle  withouc  singing  them.  The  owl  counselled  he* 


S46  THE    LIFE    OF 

to  abstain  from  looking  even  at  the  smoke  of  it.  How  caa 
a  soul  belonging  to  God  frequent  such  scenes  as  dances,  &c. 
&c.,  where  purity  is  so  easily  blemished  and  wounded  and 
vanity  is  sure  to  be  fed?  But  you  will  first  burn  your 
wings,  poor  little  moth,  before  you  will  withdraw  from  th« 
flame.  In  all  these  cases  there  is  more  safety  in  our  fear 
than  in  our  strength :  it  is  ever  easier  to  abstain  from  suck 
pleasures  than  to  use  them  well."  She  represented  the  mis- 
fortune of  losing  the  divine  grace  in  language  calculated  to 
inspire  a  lively  dread  of  so  great  an  evil.  "  To  fall  from 
grace,"  she  said,  "was  to  disfigure  and  deface  the  image  of 
God  in  our  souls.  Their  dignity  is  forgotten,  and,  while  we 
are  receiving  the  admiration  of  our  exterior  loveliness  in  the 
world,  we  become  in  the  eyes  of  God  like  senseless  beasts, 
lost  to  the  society  of  angels,  associated  with  devils,  and  slaves 
to  our  passions." 

Besides  cautioning  her  pupils  against  the  dangers  ana 
evils  they  had  to  fear,  she  endeavored  to  provide  them  with 
the  most  excellent  rules  for  sanctifying  their  actions  and 
drawing  upon  themselves  the  copious  benedictions  of  the 
Almighty.  "  Remember,"  she  said,  "  it  is  a  great  point  to 
direct  your  actions,  and  have  some  simple,  good  intention, 
even  in  the  least.  If  a  painter  should  draw  his  lines  with- 
out proposing  any  idea  to  himself,  his  work  would  be  a  blot; 
or  should  a  sculptor  give  a  number  of  strokes  to  his  block 
without  intention  to  shape  it,  what  would  he  do  but  wear; 
himself  to  no  purpose  ?  while  the  least  of  our  actions  may 
carry  its  grace  with  it,  if  we  turn  it  right.  Every  good 
action  is  a  grain  of  seed  for  eternal  life.  It  was  an  excel- 
lent word  of  St.  Bernard,  '  As  your  actions  pass  on,  let  them 
not  pass  away.' "  In  referring  to  the  dispositions  required 
for  a  profitable  reception  of  the  Holy  Eucharist,  she  said 
that  "  the  heart  preparing  for  communion  should  be  as  a 
crystal  vial  filled  with  clear  water,  in  which  the  least  raota 


MRS.    £.    A.    SETON.  847 

of  uncleanness  may  be  seen,"  and,  in  thanksgiving  for  ita 
heavenly  graces,  should  "  unite  with  the  praise  of  heaven 
and  earth,  playing  its  part,  as  it  were  its  little  string  to  the 
great  harp  of  creation."  On  days  when  the  young  ladies 
had  approached  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  she  did  not  fail  to 
congratulate  them  on  the  great  happiness  they  enjoyed. 
Entering  the  hall  where  they  were  assembled,  she  would 
open  her  arms,  and  express  the  delight  she  had  experienced 
in  seeing  them  around  the  holy  table,  at  the  same  time  re- 
minding them  that  their  hearts  were  the  tabernacles  of  the 
divinity,  and  they  should  watch  carefully  the  casket  con- 
taining so  precious  a  jewel. 

Besides  instructing  her  pupils  orally  on  various  occasions 
in  reference  to  their  religious  obligations,  Mother  Seton 
distributed  among  them  virtuous  sentences,  which  served 
as  spiritual  bouquets  to  remind  them  at  times  of  the  par- 
ticular habits  which  they  ought  to  cultivate,  and  the  spirit 
with  which  they  should  perform  their  daily  actions.(82)  De- 
curies,  or  associations  consisting  of  ten  members  each,  were 
also  established,  the  object  of  which  was  to  encourage  the 
young  ladies  to  spend  their  moments  of  recreation  in  inno- 
cent conversation  and  amusement,  by  the  recital  of  edifying 
traits,  and  such  other  practices  as  would  guard  them  against 
the  spirit  of  levity  and  dissipation.  Each  decury  had  a 
sister  to  preside  over  it,  and  Mother  Seton  would  furnish 
from  her  own  well-stored  mind,  or  from  other  sources,  a 
variety  of  interesting  anecdotes  and  narratives,  for  the  in- 
struction and  entertainment  of  these  little  bands.  Thus  did 
she  instil  into  the  youthful  mind  the  principles  of  Christian 
piety.  Her  own  soul  was  full  of  the  beauty  of  religion,  and 
she  sought  to  win  all  hearts  to  the  practice  of  it  by  the  same 
jharms  which  it  exercised  over  her.  Hence  she  led  her 
pupils  to  consider  the  attributes  01  God  as  father  and  friend, 
tnd  to  love  him  for  these  qualities,  much  more  than  to  re- 


348  THE    LIFE    OF 

gard  him  in  the  attitude  of  an  avenging  and  inexorable 
judge.  She  frequently  uttered  those  impressive  words : — 
"  Love  Grod,  my  dear  children,  and  you  may  forget  there  is 
a  hell."  Lessons  like  these,  delivered  in  her  earnest  and 
maternal  manner,  produced  an  irresistible  effect.  It  was 
impossible  to  listen  to  the  ardent  and  affectionate  appeals 
by  which  she  enforced  the  maxims  of  divine  truth,  without 
feeling  one's  heart  warmed  by  the  holy  fire  that  glowed  in 
her  own  bosom.  Her  whole  soul  seemed  to  be  present  in 
her  countenance. 

It  may  be  truly  said  that  Mother  Seton's  manner  was 
the  secret  of  her  extraordinary  influence — a  happy  blending 
of  ardent  zeal  with  maternal  sweetness.  A  moment's  inter- 
course with  her  was  sufficient  to  show  that  she  acted  foom 
the  deepest  convictions  of  truth,  while  the  kindness  which 
she  manifested  easily  prepared  the  way  for  its  willing  re- 
ception by  others.  This  was  visible  in  all  the  departments 
of  her  office  as  superior  of  St.  Joseph's  Academy.  She 
easily  conciliated  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  new  comer? 
to  the  school,  causing  them  by  her  affectionate  manner  to 
forget  the  endearments  of  home,  and  to  feel  satisfied  and 
pleased  in  a  position  which  commonly  begets  for  the  pupil 
the  most  sorrowful  moments.  "  Never  can  I  forget,"  says 
a  lady,  alluding  to  her  entering  the  academy,  "  never  can  I 
forget  my  first  meeting  with  our  beloved  Mother.  Sepa- 
rated from  my  parents  and  home,  a  child  of  but  eight  years, 
I  alighted  from  the  carriage  at  St  Joseph's,  and  felt  for  the 
moment  I  was  a  stranger.  A  band  of  young  ladies  came 
forth  with  joy  to  meet  my  travelling  companions  whom  they 
knew,  and  in  advance  of  them  there  walked  a  lady  with 
outstretched  arms,  who  kindly  welcomed  and  embraced  us. 
So  maternal  was  her  manner  that  she  gained  my  heart  at 
once,  and  I  was  happy  under  the  same  roof  with  Mother 
Seton."  She  exhibited  the  same  tenderness  of  manner  in 


MRS.    E.   A.    8ETON.  849 

her  general  attention  to  the  wants  and  wishes  of  the  young 
ladies.  On  one  occasion,  a  thunder-storm  having  arisen,  all 
the  children  in  a  panic  crowded  to  the  chapel,  where  they 
fell  on  their  knees  in  prayer.  The  sister  who  had  charge 
of  them,  with  more  zeal  than  discretion,  immediately 
ordered  them  away  from  the  holy  place,  observing  that  they 
were  very  ready  to  fly  to  God  in  the  hour  of  danger,  while 
at  other  times  they  did  not  seek  him  so  willingly.  But 
Mother  Seton,  hearing  of  the  circumstance,  calmly  reversed 
the  order,  and  permitted  the  children  to  go  into  the  chapel, 
intimating  to  the  sister  that  their  conduct  was  rather  de- 
serving of  commendation.  "  To  whom,"  she  asked,  "  should 
they  fly  in  time  of  danger,  if  not  to  our  Lord  ?"*  Even  in 
reproving  the  faults  of  those  under  her  charge,  she  did  not 
forget  that  love  is  the  most  powerful  ingredient  in  the  re- 
medy of  evil.  Her  lecture  in  such  cases  was  that  of  a  mo- 
ther in  every  sense  of  the  word, — kind,  yet  firm  and  per- 
suasive. If  the  delinquent  proved  refractory  at  the  moment) 
she  was  placed  alone  on  a  bench  under  the  image  of  the 
crucifix,  which  generally  succeeded  in  bringing  her  to  a 
sense  of  duty;  and  then  she  was  dismissed  with  a  kiss  on 
the  forehead.  Her  tenderness  was  so  deeply  felt  in  the 
mildness  of  her  reproofs  that  she  acquired  in  this  way  a 
greater  ascendency  over  the  minds  of  her  children  than  if 
she  had  punished  them  with  severity.  The  young  ladiei 
were  bound  to  her  by  the  tie  of  affection;  and  such  was  the 
love  and  reverence  she  inspired,  that  they  dreaded  to  incur 
her  displeasure ;  hence,  all  were  ambitious  to  serve  her  in 
every  possible  way,  and  for  the  same  reason  one  word  or 
look  from  her  was  frequently  sufficient  to  correct  any  fault 

*  Aa  the  command  of  this  sister  was  evidently  too  severe,  Mother 
Seton  could  reverse  it  without  detriment  to  the  regard  which  inferior! 
thould  be  taught  to  entertain  for  superior  authority. 
20 


350  THE    LIFE    Off 

they  had  committed.  Mother  Seton's  government,  how- 
ever, was  not  deficient  in  that  firmness  which  is  necessary 
to  a  wise  administration.  She  knew  how  to  distinguish  the 
enlightened  affection  of  a  parent  from  a  weak  and  injudi- 
cious condescension,  and  corrected  the  faults  of  her  pupils 
with  becoming  energy;  but  in  her  reproofs  or  punishment* 
the  element  of  maternal  kindness  was  so  conspicuous  that  it 
seldom  failed  to  accomplish  its  end.  It  was  obvious  to  ail 
that  she  desired  only  their  good,  and  employed  the  most 
amiable  means  of  effecting  it;  and  hence,  when  she  reasoned 
with  them  on  their  first  duty  to  God  or  on  their  general 
conduct,  her  language  produced  a  deep  impression;  the 
better  part  of  their  nature  was  aroused,  and  they  strove  to 
become  all  that  Mother  Seton  wished  them  to  be. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  may  be  easily  imagined  how 
successfully  she  exhorted  her  pupils  to  the  love  and  service 
of  God.  During  her  administration,  St.  Joseph's  Academy 
was  a  sanctuary  of  piety,  where  the  Christian  virtues  all 
shone  resplendent.  Of  this  some  idea  may  be  formed  from 
the  deeply  religious  sentiments  which  accompanied  the 
young  ladies  into  the  world  and  made  them  sigh  for  the 
happiness  of  being  again  within  its  precincts.  One  of  them, 
writing  to  Mother  Seton,  says : — "  At  St.  Joseph's  every  one 
united  with  me  to  praise  and  love  our  dearest  Lord.  I 
thought  I  would  meet  with  the  same  invitations  from  the 
world ;  but  they  seldom  say  any  thing  to  me  of  the  love  of 
our  crucified  Saviour.  Few,  I  fear,  know  how  sweet  is  his 
love.  .  .  .  Oh,  happy  inhabitants  of  St.  Joseph's  Valley !" 
Another  says : — "  I  cannot  help  contrasting  my  present  situa- 
tion with  that  of  last  year  :  for,  although  I  am  very  happy, 
yet  I  would  like  to  spend  the  Lent  at  St.  Joseph's,"  A 
third  exclaims : — "  The  clock  strikes  three;  what  sweet  odors 
from  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  I"  A  fourth  regrets  that 
•he  cannot  be  allowed  to  receive  confirmation  at  St.  Joseph's, 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  851 

as  there  she  would  have  so  much  better  opportunities  of  pre- 
paring herself  in  a  worthy  manner.  Various  other  test! 
monies  might  be  adduced  to  show  the  great  fervor  which  pre- 
vailed among  the  pupils ;  but  the  following  extract  from  a 
letter  addressed  to  Mother  Seton  may  not  be  unprofitably 
placed  before  the  young  reader,  who  will  find  here  an  exam- 
ple of  the  value  that  should  be  attached  to  the  lessons  of 
pious  and  enlightened  tutors,  and  of  the  grateful  veneration 
that  should  be  manifested  toward  those  who  have  labored 
to  promote  our  happiness.  "  I  remember  with  pleasure  and 
gratitude  the  interest  my  own  ever  dear  Mother  used  to 
manifest  in  my  happiness;  and  it  is  now  my  most  soothing 
occupation  to  recall  to  mind  the  happy  days  I  have  spent  at 
St.  Joseph's.  When  I  was  afflicted  and  depressed  in  mind, 
I  ever  found  relief  in  your  maternal  bosom ;  from  you  I 
heard  the  voice  of  comfort  which  could  ease  my  heart.  Now, 
alas !  I  have  none  near  me  whom  I  can  call  by  that  tender 
appellation ;  but  I  still  and  will  ever  consider  and  love  you 
as  a  mother,  and,  although  I  am  separated  from  you,  I  hope 
often  to  be  favored  with  your  dear  letters,  which  will  be  both 
a  source  of  pleasure  and  instruction.  .  St.  Joseph's !  the 
blest  abode  of  innocence  and  virtue,  how  I  long  to  see  it! 
how  widely  does  it  differ  from  this  corrupt  world !" 


852  THE    LIFE    Of 


BOOK  IX. 

Mother  Seton'a  solicitude  for  her  children — Her  eldest  ton  embark*  in  lift 
— Her  advice  to  him — He  leaves  America  in  company  with  Mr.  Brut< 
— His  brother — Death  of  Mr.  Philip  Filicchi — Illness  of  Miss  Rebecca 
Seton — Her  piety — Sentiments  of  her  mother — Her  lively  faith — Her 
death — Dispositions  of  Mother  Seton — Sympathy  of  her  friends — Is  re- 
elected  Mother-Superior — Three  sisters  sent  to  the  college  at  the  Moun- 
tain— Death  of  Archbishop  Carroll — His  successor — Bishop  Cheveru? 
visits  the  Sisterhood — The  sisters  incorporated — Remarkable  death  ol 
Mr.  Emmett — Three  sisters  sent  to  New  York — Return  of  Mother 
Baton's  son  from  Europe— Enters  the  Navy — His  former  place  occu- 
pied by  his  brother — Bishop  Dubourg  visits  the  Sisterhood — Death 
of  Rev.  Mr.  Duhamel — Duties  of  Mr.  Dubois — Progress  of  the  college 
and  character  of  its  President — Mr.  Brute'  settles  at  the  Mountain — 
Illness  of  Mother  Seton — Is  elected  Mother-Superior  for  a  third  term 
— Her  counsels  to  sisters  on  the  Mission — Project  of  building  a  church 
— House  for  free-school  erected — Deaths  in  the  community. 

MOTHER  Seton  had  now  reached  that  period  of  life  which 
is  the  most  productive  of  solicitude  and  apprehension  for  a 
Christian  parent  who  is  devoted  to  the  true  welfare  of  her 
children.  When  young  persons  are  summoned  from  thia 
world  ere  they  have  mingled  in  its  sinful  pursuits,  they  can 
be  readily  yielded  into  the  hands  of  God,  whose  merciful 
providence  is  then  rather  a  cause  for  joy  and  thanksgiving 
than  an  occasion  of  sorrowing  and  regret;  because  there  is 
a  well-founded  hope  of  their  having  attained  the  great  end 
of  their  existence — the  enjoyment  of  eternal  happiness.  But 
when  they  are  about  to  be  emancipated  from  the  parental 
charge,  to  launch  upon  the  boisterous  ocean  of  life  and  to 
grapple  with  the  difficulties  which  are  so  often  fatal  to  the 
innocence  of  youth  or  involve  in  such  fearful  uncertainty 
their  perseverance  in  good,  the  parent  cannot  but  feel  the 


MBS.   E.   A.    SETON.  853 

deepest  anxiety,  as  if  now  the  fruit  of  all  her  vigilance  and 
toil  is  to  be  exposed  to  the  most  imminent  danger.  Such 
were  the  sentiments  of  Mother  Seton.  She  was  grateful  to 
God  when  it  had  pleased  him  to  call  her  eldest  daughter  to 
himself  while  yet  in  the  bloom  of  life ;  but  she  feared  for 
those  of  her  children  whom  he  destined  to  move  on  the  wide 
theatre  of  the  world;  and  hence  she  had  not  only  sought  to 
prepare  them,  by  a  solid  and  virtuous  education,  to  embark 
safely  upon  the  course  that  his  providence  would  assign  to 
them,  but  she  embraced  every  opportunity  of  impressing  up- 
on their  minds  the  fear  of  God  and  the  necessity  of  salvation, 
as  the  only  means  of  securing  them  against  future  dangers. 
On  the  very  day  that  her  eldest  son  completed  his  eighteenth 
year,  November  25,  1814,  she  addressed  the  following  note 
to  him  : — "  My  own  dearest  child  !  Tour  birthday !  You 
know  your  mother's  heart.  It  had  a  dear  communion  for 
you  for  our  eternity.  Be  blessed  a  thousand,  thousand 
times !  Take  a  few  little  moments  in  the  church  to-day,  in 
union  with  your  mother's  heart,  to  place  yourself  again  and 
again  in  the  hands  of  God.  Do,  my  dearest  one." 

Having  now  arrived  at  an  age  when  it  became  necessary 
to  embrace  some  vocation  in  life,  this  her  eldest  son  was  the 
peculiar  object  of  her  solicitude.  The  circumstances  of  the 
times  were  such  that  it  was  not  very  easy  to  determine  the 
course  which  would  prove  most  to  his  advantage.  War  was 
etill  carried  on  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States, 
which,  in  disturbing  the  usual  operations  of  trade,  created 
that  alarm  and  mistrust  which  are  inseparable  from  such 
agitations  of  commercial  life.  While  Mother  Seton  feared 
lest  her  eldest  boy  should  enter  the  naval  profession,  the 
unsettled  state  of  commerce  made  it  difficult  to  obtain  for 
him  a  desirable  situation  in  a  mercantile  establishment. 
Such  was  the  state  of  things  when  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brute,  of 

Mt.  St.  Mary's  College,  was  called  to  France  on  business  of 

80*  X 


354  TIE  LIFE  or 

importance;  and  Mother  Seton  resolved  to  embrace  the  fa- 
vorable opportunity  of  sending  her  son  to  Europe  under  his 
protection,  and  to  place  him,  at  least  for  a  time,  under  the 
friendly  care  of  the  Messrs.  Filicchi  of  Leghorn,  where  he 
could  acquire  a  knowledge  of  business.  Those  gentlemen, 
RS  we  have  seen,  were  the  generous  friends  of  her  and  her 
family;  and,  though  she  could  give  them  no  previous  intima- 
tion of  her  design,  she  hoped  every  thing  from  their  noble 
and  virtuous  character,  convinced  that  their  unbounded  kind- 
ness would  not  be  withheld  at  a  time  when  it  could  be  exer- 
cised with  80  much  advantage.  The  letter  which  she  ad- 
dressed to  them  on  this  occasion  is  a  model  of  epistolary 
style,  full  of  eloquent  persuasion  and  of  those  beautiful  sen- 
timents which  ought  ever  to  animate  the  heart  of  a  Christian 
mother.  The  predominant  consideration  with  her  was  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  her  children.  This  was  the  absorbing 
object  of  her  thoughts  and  desires  as  a  mother,  and  every 
thing  else  in  comparison  was  looked  upon  as  utterly  insigni- 
ficant. Hence,  when  about  to  take  leave  of  her  eldest  son, 
at  his  departure  for  a  foreign  land,  she  furnished  him  with 
the  most  excellent  counsels,  in  which  the  first  and  the  last 
lesson  was  to  look  constantly  to  the  interests  of  his  immortal 
soul,  though  she  did  not  omit  the  necessary  directions  for 
his  temporal  good  and  general  conduct  among  strangers. 
The  advice  which  she  gave  him  was  full  of  the  most  prac- 
tical wisdom,  inculcating  a  due  respect  for  the  character  of  the 
reverend  gentleman  who  was  to  be  his  protector,  a  grateful 
deportment  toward  her  friends  in  Italy,  habits  of  economy,  a 
proper  regard  for  the  customs  that  he  would  witness  among 
people  abroad,  but  above  all,  the  avoidance  of  sin, — the  only 
real  evil  that  a  Christian  has  to  fear  in  this  world.  "  Our 
God,  our  eternity;"  such  was  the  last  thought  in  the  admi- 
rable directions  which  she  gave  him  while  she  bathed  them 
in  her  tears.  In  parting  from  her  son,  Mother  Seton  had 


MRS.   E.    A.    8ETON.  855 

the  consolation  to  know  that  he  was  governed  by  the  highest 
principles  of  religion  and  filial  duty, — the  sweetest  comfort 
to  the  heart  of  a  Christian  parent.  If  there  was  a  joy  that 
she  experienced  after  this  and  for  which  she  offered  her  fer- 
vent thanks  to  heaven,  it  was  to  see  her  son  so  securely 
sheltered  under  the  protecting  care  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  BrutS, 
for  whom  she  justly  entertained  the  profoundest  veneration, 
and  whose  kindness  made  her  feel,  as  she  herself  expressed 
it,  as  contented  as  old  Tobias  when  he  placed  his  boy  under 
the  guardianship  of  the  angel  Raphael.  The  travellers  em- 
barked at  New  York  on  the  6th  of  April,  and  had  a  success- 
ful voyage  to  Bordeaux.  Here  Mr.  Seton  parted  from  his 
venerated  friend,  and  preceded  to  Leghorn,  where  he  met 
with  a  most  friendly  reception  from  the  Filicchi  family. 

While  Mother  Seton  waa  solicitously  occupied  in  the 
wise  direction  of  her  absent  son,  she  was  equally  devoted  to 
the  interests  of  his  brother  at  home,  who  was  now  preparing 
to  enter  upon  some  settled  course  of  life.  In  providing  for 
this  emergency,  she  was  governed  by  the  same  lofty  princi- 
ples which  had  always  actuated  her,  looking  to  the  security 
of  his  faith  and  the  salvation  of  his  soul  as  the  paramount 
objects  of  concern :  for,  as  she  remarked  on  this  occasion, 
"  Religion  must  never  be  sacrificed;  for  what  is  man  without 
a  soul,  and  what  is  a  soul  without  faith  ?"  In  the  spring  of 
1816,  her  second  son  was  admitted  into  the  counting-house 
of  one  of  the  principal  merchants  in  Baltimore,  who  was  also 
one  of  the  most  influential  members  of  the  Catholic  Church 
in  that  city. 

Soon  after  this,  Mother  Seton  received  the  painful  intel 
ligence  that  Mr.  Philip  Filicchi,  to  whom  she  owed  so  much 
for  this  world  and  the  next,  had  died  at  Leghorn  on  the  22d 
of  August.  This  event  was  indeed  a  hard  stroke  to  a  heart 
like  hers,  which  had  known  so  well  how  to  appreciate  the 
noble  qualities  of  her  Italian  friend.  His  zeal  and  intelli- 


156  THE    LIFE     Of 

gence  had  been  chiefly  instrumental,  under  divine  grace,  in 
opening  her  eyes  to  the  light  of  truth,  and  in  conjunction 
with  his  distinguished  brother  he  was  ready  to  share  liberally 
with  her  and  her  family  even  the  earthly  treasures  which 
Providence  had  bestowed  upon  him.  While  gratitude 
prompted  her  to  convey  her  deepest  sympathies  to  his 
afflicted  relatives,  and  to  have  prayers  and  sacrifices  con- 
tinually offered  up  for  the  repose  of  his  soul,  she  rejoiced  foe 
her  son  that  he  had  known  so  eminent  a  pattern  of  virtue 
and  beheld  in  him  an  example  of  wealth  sanctified  by  religion. 
Alluding  to  the  event  in  a  letter  to  her  son,  she  says: — 
"Our  true  and  dear  benefactor's  death!  Long  I  dreaded 
it,  but  our  God  alone  in  every  thing  I  What  an  example 
has  he  left  to  you,  my  love,  of  the  true  Christian  and  true 
gentleman !  How  I  pity  Mr.  Antonio !  and  Signora  Maria 
must  be  desolate  indeed !  Do  all  you  can,  my  son :  I  know 
and  am  sure  you  will;  and  do,  do  remember  how  narrow  is 
the  way  that  leads  where  they  are  gone  so  dear  to  us.  This 
moment  from  communion !  What  does  not  my  heart  say 
for  you  continually !  ...  Say  every  thing  for  me  to  our 
dear  friends."  The  death  of  Mr.  Filicchi  was  not  the  loss 
of  a  few  only :  it  may  be  said  to  have  been  a  public  cala- 
mity; for,  besides  the  gloom  which  it  spread  over  the  commu- 
nity by  the  departure  of  one  whose  bright  virtues  had  won 
for  him  universal  reverence  and  whose  wisdom  contributed 
so  much  to  the  public  weal,  hundreds  of  poor  fed  at  his 
hands,  orphans  depending  on  his  support,  and  prisoners  re- 
lieved by  his  charity,  now  mourned  for  a  lost  benefactor. 
Their  loss,  however,  was  his  gain;  for  he  had  kept  his  soul 
free  from  the  defilements  of  the  world,  and,  having  made  his 
riches  subservient  to  religion,  and  placed  his  honor  not  in 
wealth,  but  in  God,  he  had  sent  his  treasures  before  him, 
and  secured  to  himself  friends  to  receive  him  in  the  eternal 
tabernacles. 


MBS.    X.   A.    SETON  857 

Two  months  had  scarcely  elapsed  when  the  tender  affec- 
tion of  Mother  Seton  was  put  to  a  still  severer  trial  by  the 
loss  of  her  yDungest  daughter, — a  loss  which  is  rather  to  be 
felt  than  described;  for  they  who  were  personally  and  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  this  young  lady  represent  her  as 
gifted  with  the  finest  qualities  of  mind  and  heart.  She  wa§ 
naturally  of  a  gay  and  happy  disposition,  which  won  the  love 
of  her  companions;  but  her  piety  made  her  far  more  worthy 
of  admiration.  Ever  since  the  winter  of  1812,  when  she 
was  injured  by  a  fall  on  the  ice,  she  had  been  more  or  less 
a  continual  sufferer.  To  have  the  advantage  of  the  best 
medical  attendance,  she  was  sent  to  Baltimore;  but,  though 
partially  relieved  by  her  physician,  she  was  far  from  being 
restored  to  health.  During  her  stay  in  Baltimore,  her 
mother  addressed  several  letters  to  her,  in  which  she  em- 
ployed the  most  persuasive  language  of  maternal  affection 
to  impress  upon  her  mind  the  lessons  which  her  situation 
required  and  to  render  her  pains  an  occasion  of  spiritual 
profit.  In  one  of  her  notes  she  says : — 

;<MY  SOUL'S  LITTLE  DARLING: — 

'Mother's  eyes  fill  with  tears  even  when  she  thinks 
of  you — but  loving  tears  of  joy  that  my  dear  one  may  suffer 
and  bear  pain,  and  resign  herself  to  the  will  of  our  Dearest, 
and  be  the  child  of  his  cross.  You  know  mother  has  often 
told  you  that  the  one  who  suffers  most  is  the  dearest  to  me, 
and  so  our  Dearest  loves  the  child  he  afflicts  with  a  double 
love.  Remember,  my  dear  one,  what  mother  told  you  about 
love  and  obedience  to  our  so  kind  and  tender  friend,*  and 
our  Dearest,  not  to  forget  him  a  moment:  you  know  he 
never  forgets  you;  and  do  not  mind  kneeling,  but  speak 
your  heart  to  him  anywhere.  May  his  dear,  dearest  blessing 
be  on  you !  .  .  .  Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph  bless  and  love  you." 

•  The  lady  of  the  physician  at  whose  residence  she  lodged  in  Baltimore. 


858  THE    LIFE    Of 

While  in  Baltimore,  Miss  Seton  had  also  the  happinest 
of  receiving  the  sacrament  of  confirmation,  the  grace  of 
which  was  so  desirable  in  her  suffering  condition.*  The 
sacred  gifts  thus  communicated  to  her,  and  the  constant  ad- 
rice  of  her  truly  Christian  mother,  were  not  without  the 
happiest  effects.  They  encouraged  her  under  the  painful 
trial  which  she  suffered,  and  taught  her  to  seek  for  strength 
and  consolation  where  alone  they  can  be  found, — in  the  lov« 
of  God  and  in  union  with  his  divine  Son.  She  frequently 
approached  the  sacraments,  and  by  her  advice  and  example 
encouraged  her  fellow-pupils  to  a  more  fervent  practice  of 
virtue.  Many  little  associations  were  introduced  by  her 
among  the  boarders,  generally  under  the  protection  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Heaven,  whose  name  through  a  spirit  of  devotion 
she  added  to  her  own.  These  associations  had  their  parti- 
cular regulations,  by  which  the  young  ladies  were  led  to  the 
exercise  of  patience,  charity,  obedience,  and  other  virtues  of 
a  Christian  life.  Often  was  she  seen  in  presence  of  the 
Blessed  Sacrament,  a  lighted  taper  in  one  hand  and  her  book 
in  the  other,  performing  with  the  utmost  recollection  the 
pious  duties  which  she  had  undertaken  with  some  of  her 
companions.  By  this  exemplary  conduct  and  her  amiable 
deportment  she  became  a  universal  favorite  at  St.  Joseph's 
House.  When  the  orphans  educated  there  were  formed  into 
a  class,  separate  from  the  boarders,  they  at  first  were  pained 
by  the  humiliation  which  this  distinction  seemed  to  imply; 
but  Miss  Seton  caused  all  their  uneasiness  to  vanish  by  join- 
ing  the  class  herself.  To  see  her  daughter  at  this  tender 
agef  so  diligent  and  fervent  in  the  cultivation  of  piety  was 

•  It  was  probably  to  this  consoling  event  that  ber  mother  alluded, 
when  she  wrote — "  My  soul's  little  darling,  more  and  more  and  more  be- 
loved since  the  sacred  gift  has  been  bestowed  en  you.  Oh,  keep  it  car*- 
folly,  and  watch  every  word  and  thought." 

f  She  was  only  in  her  fourteenth  year. 


MBS.    E.   A.    SETON.  359 

a  source  of  inexpressible  delight  to  Mothei  Seton,  who  lost 
no  opportunity  of  encouraging  so  happy  a  disposition  by  the 
most  solid  and  impressive  counsels.  The  following  note  she 
sent  to  her  in  answer,  it  appears,  to  a  question  about  ap- 
proaching the  sacraments.  "With  the  little  pen  I  answer 
my  dear,  every  day  dearer,  little  darling,  how  much  I  desirt 
she  should  go  and  unite  still  closer  to  our  only  Beloved.  .  . 
Go  either  Thursday  or  Sunday,  as  the  rest  do,  and  make 
your  careful  preparation  of  the  purest  heart  you  can  bring 
him,  that  it  may  appear  to  him  like  a  bright  little  star  at  the 
bottom  of  a  fountain.  Oh,  my  Rebecca !  child  of  eternity !  let 
peace  and  love  stay  with  you  in  your  pains,  and  they  will 
lighten  and  sweeten  them  all.  Be  blessed  forever  I"  The 
only  direction  of  this  note  was,  my  own  child  of  eternity, — an 
expression  which  Mother  Seton  applied  to  her  suffering 
daughter,  because  she  loved  to  contemplate  her  gradually 
ripening  for  the  eternal  crown  by  an  humble  and  patient  re- 
signation to  the  will  of  God  under  the  afflictions  which  he  had 
sent  her.  Such  was  the  consolation  and  joy  of  this  Christian 
mother  to  see  her  beloved  child,  not  decked  off  in  the  vanity 
of  the  world,  but  wearing  the  livery  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
possessing  in  her  painful  disease,  borne  in  his  spirit  and  in 
union  with  him,  a  happy  mark  of  predestination.  "  Oh  the 
joy  to  that  mother's  soul  I"  she  wrote  on  another  occasion  to 
her  daughter,  "  the  love  of  her  Mother  in  heaven !  the  de- 
light of  her  good  angel  presenting  every  moment  of  the  suf- 
fering darling  to  her  crucified  Saviour,  who  counts  her  pains 
with  his!  My  soul's  darling,  in  her  cradle  and  bandage, 
sitting  on  this  swift-rolling  earth — moments  and  hours  pass- 
ing so  swiftly  to  our  glorious  happy  eternity!  Trust  all 
indeed  to  him,  my  dear  one;  put  all  in  his  hands,  and  we 
will  see  by-and-by,  when  we  get  home  in  our  Jerusalem, 
how  good  and  tender  he  has  been  in  giving  you  the  thorny 
crown."  The  sufferings  of  Miss  Seton  having  become  aggra- 


S60  THE     LIFE     OF 

vated  by  the  formation  of  a  tumor  on  the  thigh,  which  wan 
tlie  seat  of  her  disease,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  send  hei 
to  Philadelphia,  for  the  purpose  of  consulting  an  eminenl 
physician  of  that  place.  While  there,  she  remained  at  the 
asylum  conducted  by  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  from  whom  she 
received  the  kindest  attentions;  but  her  complaint  baffled 
all  the  efforts  of  medical  skill  and  friendly  care,  and  left 
little  or  no  hope  of  her  recovery.  Mother  Seton,  far  from 
flattering  her  child  with  such  a  hope,  turned  her  thoughts 
and  aspirations  continually  to  that  better  world  where  tears 
and  sorrowing  are  exchanged  for  never-ending  joys.  On  the 
other  hand,  nothing  could  exceed  the  affectionate  tenderness 
with  which  she  inculcated  the  lessons  of  Christian  faith,  and 
kindled  in  the  heart  of  her  daughter  a  desire  of  her  heavenly 
home.  "Oh,  could  I  but  take  your  jalaps  and  every  pain, 
and  your  precious  soul  yet  be  adorned  with  the  blessed  graces 
they  will  bring  to  you !  My  Rebecca !  he  alone  knows — on 
your  bed  and  little  pillow — but  yet  a  little  while — I  hope 
every  thing  for  our  dear  eternity,  since  you  must  suffer  no 
much  here."  In  the  hope  of  relieving  her  pains,  if  not  remov- 
ing her  disease,  the  physician  ordered  the  use  of  an  apparatus 
the  application  of  which  caused  her  the  greatest  suffering. 
Though  agonizing  to  a  mother's  feelings  to  witness  the  tor- 
ture which  the  use  of  this  instrument  gave  to  her  child,  she 
persevered  with  heroic  fortitude  in  obeying  the  orders  of  the 
physician,  until,  perceiving  after  a  fair  trial  that  it  would 
prove  of  no  avail,  she  discontinued  it,  saying,  "  Let  the  holy 
will  of  God  be  done.  If  he  pleases  to  call  the  darling  to 
himself,  happy  for  her  to  escape  the  dangers  of  a  sinful 
world!" 

With  the  increase  of  her  sufferings,  this  admirable  child 
seemed  to  increase  in  patience  and  conformity  to  the  divine 
will.  During  six  months  previous  to  her  death  she  had 
icarcely  an  interval  of  repose;  yet  she  never  lost  her  lively 


MRS.    E.    A.    6 ETON.  861 

»nd  cheerful  manner,  and  offered  her  sufferings  continually 
to  God  in  union  with  those  of  Jesus  Christ.  Mother  Seton 
was  in  constant  attendance  upon  her,  being  up  half  of  the 
night  and  never  leaving  her  bedside  during  the  day;  but 
her  ambition  to  perfect  that  soul  for  the  meeting  of  the 
heavenly  Spouse,  and  the  beauty  of  holiness  which  she  be- 
held in  it  increasing  from  day  to  day,  supported  her  strength 
and  nerved  her  for  the  trying  scene.  "  Our  God !"  she  ex- 
claimed, "how  sweet  to  see  his  love  in  our  little  beloved!" 
Viewing  the  holy  sentiments  of  her  daughter,  she  could 
yield  her  even  with  joy  into  the  hands  of  God.  "There  are 
moments  of  life,"  she  wrote  to  her  absent  son,  "when  resig- 
nation and  courage  are  scarcely  to  be  thought  an  exertion ; 
and  this  is  one  with  us,  with  you  even,  so  far  from  the  daily 
scene  of  the  heavenly  virtues  she  continually  displays,  and 
which  promise  so  certainly  the  blessed  consequence  of  her 
early  call  from  this  world  of  uncertainty;  for,  if  she  re- 
mained with  us  through  the  succession  of  pains  and  trials 
which  she  must  have  passed  in  a  longer  life,  we  should  be 
quite  insecure  for  her  eternity;  but  now  we  see  her,  as  it 
were,  exhaling  to  heaven  in  all  the  purity  of  her  innocence. 
Be  not  selfish,  my  beloved ;  let  her  go."  September  4, 1816. 
But  the  nearer  the  youthful  sufferer  approached  the  last 
moment  of  life,  the  more  fully  did  she  respond  to  the  che- 
rished hopes  of  her  saintly  mother.  While  the  bodily  frame 
was  fast  falling  to  decay,  the  faculties  of  her  soul  and  her 
Christian  virtue  shone  forth  more  brightly  than  ever.  She 
was  not  only  willing  to  die,  but  she  was  convinced  of  the 
happiness  of  leaving  the  world  at  so  early  a  period  of  life, 
and  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of  her  crown  in  heaven 
Though  full  of  humility  at  the  thought  of  having  proved  so 
little  her  love  for  God,  and  penetrated  with  a  salutary  fear 
of  his  judgments,  yet  she  had  a  tender  and  peaceful  con- 
fidence in  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  joyfully  hoped 
81 


362  THE    LIFE    OF 

that  through  him  her  efforts  to  please  God  would  be  ci  owned 
with  the  rewards  of  eternal  life. 

On  one  occasion,  her  sufferings  being  very  violent,  she 
expressed  a  desire  to  receive  extreme  unction ;  and  although 
her  director,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  perceived  no  immediate 
danger,  he  heard  her  confession,  with  the  intention  of  anoint- 
ing her  on  the  following  day.  "  It  is  impossible,"  said  he, 
"  to  give  an  idea  of  the  composure  of  mind  and  heavenly 
resignation  of  this  blessed  angel.  After  her  confession  was 
over,  '  Father,'  said  she,  l  is  there  any  harm  to  hope  that  I 
will  go  to  heaven  as  soon  as  I  am  dead  ?'  '  No,  my  beloved 
child,'  said  I,  ( if  this  hope  is  grounded  not  on  any  con- 
fidence you  have  in  your  own  merits,  but  on  the  mercy  of 
God  and  the  merits  of  our  Jesus.'  '  Oh,'  said  she,  it  is  so 
I  understand  it ;  what  merits  could  such  a  child  as  I  have  ? 
But  when  I  look  at  the  cross  and  consider  that  our  Lord  has 
shed  his  blood  to  save  me,  then  I  hope  that  my  sufferings 
will  be  accepted  as  my  penance,  without  going  to  purgatory. 
Oh  !  how  I  would  like  to  go  to  heaven  !  Then  I  would  love 
God  and  would  not  be  afraid  to  lose  him.' "  She  recalled 
with  much  comfort,  at  this  eventful  hour  of  her  existence, 
the  efforts  which  she  had  always  made  to  prepare  herself 
well  for  the  sacrament  of  penance  and  to  obtain  the  grace 
of  a  GOOD  ABSOLUTION.  Her  support  under  the  violence 
of  her  sufferings  was  the  consideration  of  her  Divine  Sa- 
viour on  the  cross.  Her  eyes  were  almost  continually  fixed 
on  the  crucifix,  the  sight  of  which  animated  her  to  endure 
every  pain  after  the  example  of  Jesus  Christ,  while  it  in- 
spired the  most  consoling  hopes  for  her  eternal  reward. 
A  few  weeks  before  her  death,  she  seemed  to  shrink  at  the 
idea  of  such  an  event,  and  gladly  received  the  visits  of  hei 
schoolmates,  to  cheer  the  hour  of  suffering.  Mother  Seton, 
fearing  lest  her  thoughts  might  be  diverted  from  the  con- 
rideration  of  what  she  now  desired  to  be  the  sole  obiect  of 


MRS.    E.    A     SETON.  363 

her  attention,  had  recourse  to  prayer.  She  requested  seve- 
ral of  the  sisters  to  make  a  novena  with  her  in  honor  of 
St.  Joseph,  to  obtain  for  her  beloved  daughter  the  grace  of 
a  holy  and  happy  death.  The  novena  being  ended,  Rebecca 
seemed  to  be  altogether  absorbed  in  preparing  for  her  last 
momenta.  She  called  her  mother  and  desired  that  none  of 
aer  companions  should  be  admitted  that  day  to  her  room. 
Her  papers  having  been  brought  to  her  at  her  request,  she 
made  a  selection  of  some,  which  she  directed  her  mother  to 
destroy,  as  they  contained  her  confessions  and  the  advices 
which  she  had  received  on  those  occasions.  Others  were 
prayers  and  devotions  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  or  resolutions 
which  she  had  formed  after  approaching  the  sacrament  of 
penance,  and  her  sentiments  during  retreats.  From  this 
moment  to  that  of  her  final  departure,  her  time  was  almost 
entirely  employed  in  pious  colloquies  with  her  mother,  who, 
in  lavishing  upon  her  all  the  care  that  the  most  tender  af- 
fection could  suggest,  beheld  with  delight  the  beautiful  dis- 
positions of  her  dying  child,  who  now  spoke  as  familiarly  of 
death  as  of  an  ordinary  journey,  and  tried  to  soothe  the  dis- 
tress of  those  around  her  by  words  which  only  the  most  cou- 
rageous faith  could  inspire.  "  Death,  death,  my  mother," 
she  would  say  in  the  agony  of  her  pains;  "  it  seems  so  strange 
that  I  shall  be  no  more  here.  You  will  come  back,  (from 
the  graveyard,)  dearest  mother,  alone.  No  little  Rebecca 
behind  the  curtain.  But  that  is  only  one  side :  when  I  look 
at  the  other,  I  forget  all ;  you  will  be  comforted.  ...  If 

Dr.  C w"«ud  say,  Rebecca,  you  will  get  well,  I  would 

not  wish  i*  —no,  my  dearest  Saviour !  I  am  convinced  of 
the  haprr.aess  of  an  early  death,  and  to  sin  no  more.  That 
is  the  point,  my  mother,"  throwing  her  arms  around  her, 
and  repeating,  "sin  no  more  !"  On  the  vigil  of  All-Saints, 
feelin;  much  worse,  she  desired  to  receive  the  last  sacra- 
vr  entj  the  blessings  of  which  she  appreciated  with  the  most 


864  THE    LIFE    0V 

lively  faith.  It  happened  that  her  mother  and  herself  had 
just  before  been  reading  and  conversing  about  the  holy  via- 
ticum and  extreme  unction,  so  that  all  preparations  were 
already  made.  After  these  consoling  rites  had  been  per- 
formed, in  which  she  participated  with  the  greatest  piety 
and  recollection,  she  awaited  momentarily  the  call  of  her 
Divine  Master,  requesting  different  prayers  to  be  recited, 
her  ardent  faith  strongly  depicted  on  her  countenance,  her 
thoughts  fixed  on  God,  and  her  heart  pouring  itself  forth  in 
acts  of  love  and  thanksgiving  for  the  graces  then  bestowed 
upon  her.  When  her  first  communion-candle,  which  had 
been  lighted  at  her  request,  dropped  into  the  socket,  she 
expressed  the  disappointment  of  a  child,  because  she  had 
hoped  that  with  the  extinction  of  the  candle  she  would  be 
summoned  from  the  world ;  yet  she  resigned  herself  with 
the  strongest  and  tenderest  submission  of  her  will,  closely 
uniting  in  the  agony  of  Jesus  in  the  garden.  Her  pains 
were  now  excruciating,  and  she  had  some  fears  lest  her  pa- 
tience might  fail,  when  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois  arrived,  and, 
finding  her  in  so  pitiable  a  state,  offered  to  remain  with  her. 
For  so  valued  a  favor  her  gratitude  was  inexpressible.  The 
presence  of  a  priest  seemed  to  arm  her  against  every  powei 
of  the  enemy;  she  even  begged  him  to  say  his  office  near 
her,  and  reminded  her  mother,  with  a  smile,  that  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Brute*  called  their  little  room  the  tabernacle  of  the  just, 
The  two  following  days  were  passed  with  increased  weakness 
and  pain.  "  Our  God  !  our  God  !"  exclaims  Mother  Seton, 
"  to  wait  one  hour  for  an  object  every  moment  expected  I 
but  poor  Rebecca's  hours  and  agonies  are  known  to  you 
alone ! — her  meek,  submissive  look,  artless  appeals  of  sorrow, 
and  unutterable  distress : — the  hundred  little  acts  of  piety 
that  All-Souls  day,  so  sad  and  sorrowful, — the  fears  of  the 
poor  mother's  heart,  her  bleeding  heart,  for  patience  and 
perseverance  in  so  weak  a  child, — the  silent,  long  looks  at 


MBS.   E.   A.    BETON.  865 

aach  other, — fears  of  interfering  in  any  way  with  the  de- 
signs of  infinite  love : — oh  that  day  and  night  and  following 
day !  The  reverend  Superior  told  her  he  would  not  wish 
hei  sufferings  shortened ;  she  quietly  gave  up,  felt  her  pulse 
no  more,  inquired  no  more  about  going,  or  what  hour  it  was, 
but,  with  her  heart  of  sorrow  pictured  on  her  countenance, 
looking  now  at  the  crucifix,  again  at  her  mother,  seemed  to 
mind  nothing  else."  In  this  full  union  of  her  soul  with 
God,  and  with  words  of  comfort  to  those  around  her,  she 
fell  into  her  agony,  and  her  head  sank  upon  the  bosom  of 
her  mother,  while  her  spirit  took  its  flight  above.  "  This/' 
says  an  eye-witness,  "  was  the  moment  of  victory  over  na- 
ture." When  Mother  Seton  had  helped  to  lay  the  little 
corpse  on  the  bed,  having  embraced  it  with  the  tender 
words,  "  My  Rebecca,  my  darling,"  she  turned  toward  one 
of  the  sisters,  saying,  "  My  dear  sister,  bring  me  a  change 
of  linen ;  now  that  my  chains  are  broken,  I  will  bless  the 
Lord."  Raising  her  eyes  and  arms  in  a  holy  transport  to- 
ward heaven,  she  exclaimed,  "  0  my  Lord !  my  darling  is 
with  you ;  she  will  no  more  be  in  danger  of  offending  you ; 
I  give  her  to  you  with  all  my  soul."  In  making  this  offer- 
ing to  God,  Mother  Seton  felt  the  full  honor  and  happiness 
of  returning  pure  and  holy  into  his  hands  the  child  of  her 
bosom,  who,  though  so  young,  was  adorned  with  every 
Christian  virtue,  and  of  whom  it  may  be  truly  said,  with 
the  inspired  writer,  that  her  brief  career  had  fulfilled  the 
hopes  of  a  long  existence.  Nature,  indeed,  would  urge  its 
claims ;  the  tears  of  affection  would  flow  in  homage  to  so 
much  worth ;  but  faith  was  ever  triumphant,  joy  and  grati- 
tude pervading  the  heart  where  grief  could  so  justly  have 
bjen  permitted  to  enter.  Mother  Seton  thus  wrote  to  a 
friend,  announcing  the  loss  of  her  daughter : — "  You  only 
can  understand  her  delight  and  triumphs  in  the  last  sacra- 
ments, and  dearest  hopes  through  the  divine  sacrifice  of  the 

81* 


366  THE    LIFE    OF 

altar,  even  after  death.  I  could  give  you  no  possible  idea 
of  the  peace,  sweetness,  fortitude,  and  piety  of  that  beautiful 
soul,  which  shone  so  well  and  so  purely  on  her  face,  that 
from  being  only  a  good-looking  child,  as  when  you  last  saw 
her,  she  became  a  real  beauty  even  in  death.  High,  high 
up  your  heart,  dearest  friend;  no  sad  and  unavailing  re- 
grets; see  her  now  where  she  is,  and  that  will  silence  all." 
But  in  writing  to  her  absent  son,  in  reference  to  the  same 
event,  Mother  Seton  displays  all  the  heroic  sentiments  of 
her  heart : — 

"  My  soul's  W ,  what  would  I  give  to  be  with  you  at 

the  moment  you  hear  the  last  sad  anticipated  news  for  which 
all  my  many  late  letters  have  been  preparing  you  !  There  are 
moments,  my  son,  when  gratitude  to  God  must  overrule  even 
the  tenderest,  deepest  feelings  of  nature;  and  this  is  one, 
my  beloved ;  for  scarcely  could  you  be  more  sure,  if  you  had 
seen  your  Rebecca  ascend  in  the  form  of  an  angel  to  heaven, 
that  she  was  actually  there,  than  you  may  be  through  faith, 
after  the  death  we  have  witnessed.  It  would  be  too,  too 
selfish  in  us  to  have  wished  her  inexpressible  sufferings  pro- 
longed and  her  secure  bliss  deferred  for  our  longer  posses- 
sion of  this  dejir  creature,  though  in  her  I  have  lost  the 
little  friend  of  my  heart,  who  read  every  pain  or  joy  of  it, 
and  soothed  by  the  most  doting  affection  every  daily  care, — 
the  darling  of  my  soul  though  her  so  unexampled  sufferings 
and  patience.  Yet  I  look  up  with  joy,  and  feel  only  for 
you,  so  far  awaj.  She  said  often,  if  it  was  possible  to  show 
herself  to  you  she  would;  but  one  thing  she  was  sure  GUI 
Lord  would  no't  refuse, — to  let  her  see  you;  and,  frcm  the 
heavenly  grace  s  he  favored  her  with  in  this  world,  we  may 
well  think  he  would  deny  her  nothing. 

"  It  is  not  possible  to  give  you  a  true  idea  of  the  virtues 
of  Rebecca  t  her  beauty  of  soul  and  body  increased  daily  even 
to  the  arms,  of  death.  Your  last  letter  arrived  the  day  be- 


MRS.   £.    A.    SETON.  867 

fore  she  died,  while  she  was  even  in  her  long  agony.  I  told 
her  your  tender  love,  and  she  raised  her  eyes  to  the  crucifix, 
blessing  you  with  love  in  every  feature,  yet  the  expression 
of  distress  which  she  always  felt  only  for  you — the  only  re- 
gret she  ever  expressed  for  this  world.  '  Tell  him  only  to 
meet  me,'  she  would  say,  and  never  could  bear  us  to  speak 
of  you  but  for  a  moment.  In  the  arms  and  on  the  doting 
heart  of  her  mother  she  gave  the  last  sigh.  Nine  weeks, 
night  and  day,  I  had  her  in  my  arms, — even  eating  my  meal 
with  one  hand  often  behind  her  pillow,  while  she  rested  on 
my  knees.  Her  pains  could  find  no  relief  or  solace  but  in 
her  own  poor  mother,  so  happy  to  bear  them  with  her  that 
truly  it  has  in  no  way  hurt  me."  November  21,  1816. 

Under  this  painful  trial,  it  was  a  great  consolation  to 
Mother  Seton  to  receive  from  so  many  distinguished  and 
valued  friends  an  expression  of  their  sympathy  according 
perfectly  with  her  own  elevated  feelings.  Bishop  Cheverus 
of  Boston,  Rev.  Dr.  Matignon,  and  others,  wrote  to  her,  not 
in  a  strain  of  condolence,  but  congratulating  her  on  the  hap- 
piness of  herself  and  the  child  whom  she  had  so  successfully 
trained  to  be  the  companion  of  angels.  The  following 
language  of  Rev.  Mr.  Moranville",  the  saintly  pastor  of  St. 
Patrick's  Church  in  Baltimore,  will  convey  the  sentiments 
of  all  and  show  the  high  esteem  which  was  entertained  for 
the  character  of  Miss  Seton. 

"  Our  dear  Rebecca  has  at  last  met  a  better  change.  She 
is  now  in  the  embraces  of  Him  whom  she  so  ardently  loved. 
Her  last  trials,  borne  with  such  unalterable  joy  and  in  a 
state  of  so  great  purity  of  mind  and  heart,  have  no  doubt 
entitled  her  to  the  long-wished-for  reward.  No  doubt  she 
now  looks  with  complacency  upon  her  mother  and  her  friends 
«he  has  left  behind,  and  solicits  for  us  all  a  share  in  the 
blessed  portion  she  now  enjoys  forever.  Happy  child !  taken 
in  the  very  bud  of  life,  and  permitted  only  to  live  long 


THE    LIFE    Of 

enough  to  secure  to  herself,  by  her  merits  and  virtue,  a  never- 
fading  crown!  Dear  Mother,  I  could  not  but  rejoice  at 
your  situation,  in  hearing  so  many  edifying  things  of  this 
child  of  blessing  She  was  long  since  ripe  for  a  blissful  im- 
mortality; and  the  Lord,  who  has  taken  her  away  from  your 
presence,  has  comforted  you  with  this  reviving  hope.  We 
pray  for  her  more  for  our  own  interest  than  from  a  sense  of 
her  being  in  want  of  any  assistance."^ 

It  was  a  great  happiness  for  Mother  Seton  that  she  could 
contemplate  with  joy  those  of  her  children  who  were  yet 
travelling  the  journey  of  life,  as  well  as  those  whom  she 
had  already  yielded  into  the  hands  of  God. 

While  she  was  devoting  herself  unceasingly  to  their  true 
welfare,  the  institution  over  which  she  presided  was  fast 
rising  in  importance.  The  steady  increase  in  the  number 
of  sisters  and  pupils  at  St.  Joseph's,  with  the  fervent  prac- 
tice of  the  Christian  virtues  that  prevailed  there,  was  a  proof 
that  the  Almighty  still  favored  it  with  his  benedictions 
According  to  the  constitutions  of  the  sisterhood,  a  second 
election  for  the  appointment  of  a  Mother-superior  had  been 
held  on  the  20th  of  July,  1815,  which  resulted  in  the  retain- 
ing of  Mother  Seton  in  the  office  which  she  had  already  so 
ably  filled.  Sister  Elizabeth  Boyle  was  appointed  Assistant- 
Mother;  Sister  Margaret  George  continued  the  duties  oi 
Treasurer,  and  Sister  Joanna  Smith  entered  upon  the  office 
of  Procuratrix.  About  the  same  time,  three  of  the  sisters — 
Bridget  Farrel,  Ann  Gruber,  and  Anastasia  Nabbs — were 
sent  to  Mt.  St.  Mary's  College,  "  full  of  desire,"  says  Mother 
Seton,  "to  relieve  the  cares  of  their  dear  superior,  and  make 
some  little  return  of  his  long  labors  for  the  house,  by  trying 
to  serve  his  interesting  establishment  there."  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Dubois  still  continued  his  eminent  services  to  St.  Joseph'g 
community,  amid  his  other  arduous  occupations,  which 
literally  overwhelmed  him,  particularly  since  the  departure 


MRS.   E.   A.    8ETON.  869 

of  Rev.  Mr.  Brute*  for  Europe.  He  was  oftentimes  obliged 
to  abstain  from  his  meals  on  account  of  the  fatigue  undei 
which  he  labored  j  and  it  was  useless  to  represent  to  him 
*he  necessity  of  paying  more  regard  to  his  health,  for  his 
enterprising  spirit  and  indefatigable  zeal  made  him  indiffer- 
ent to  his  personal  wants.*  Under  these  circumstances,  to 
receive  the  aid  of  the  sisters  was  a  great  relief  to  him  in  hia 
responsible  charge ;  while  their  superior  management  in  at- 
tending to  the  infirmary,  clothes-room,  and  other  depart- 
ments of  the  household,  contributed  much  to  elevate  the 
college  in  the  public  estimation.  This  was  the  second  mis- 
sion  which  the  Sisters  of  Charity  undertook  out  of  the  mo- 
ther-house. 

Such  was  the  progress  of  the  institution,  when  its  chief 
superior,  the  Most  Rev.  John  Carroll,  Archbishop  of  Balti- 
more, was  called  to  his  reward  on  the  3d  of  December,  in 
the  eightieth  year  of  his  ago  and  the  twenty-sixth  of  his  epis- 
copal career.  The  profound  grief  which  this  event  excited, 
not  only  within  the  limits  of  his  diocese,  but  over  the  whole 
country,  was  particularly  felt  at  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood,  in 
the  establishment  and  government  of  which  he  had  so  largely 
co-operated.  He  had  watched  its  progress  with  the  deepest 
interest;  and  he  had  the  high  satisfaction,  before  he  left  the 
world,  to  see  it  advancing  in  usefulness  and  promising  to 
become  an  instrument  of  the  most  extensive  good  for  the 
American  Church.  For  Mother  Seton  and  her  family  he 
had  always  cherished  a  peculiar  regard,  and,  accustomed  a? 
ehc  was  to  rely  much  on  the  wisdom  of  his  counsels,  hia 
death  was  a  severe  stroke  to  her,  although  she  bowed  with 
submission  to  the  decrees  of  Providence. 

*  One  day  he  said  to  Mother  Seton,  laughing,  "  You  see  my  hair  cut?  I 
met  the  barber  in  the  woods,  and  I  sat  down  on  a  stone  to  let  him  do  it 
there;  there  in  no  time  at  home."  This  incident  unfolds  the  whole  ohft* 
r»oter  of  that  excellent  and  laborious  priest 


870  THE    LIFE    OF 

Archbishop  Carroll  was  succeeded  in  the  metropolitan 
fee  by  his  coadjutor,  the  Rt.  Rev.  Leonard  Neale,  who,  worn 
out  with  age  and  infirmity,  applied  without  delay  to  the 
Holy  See  to  have  Bishop  Cheverus  of  Boston  associated  with 
him  in  the  episcopal  charge.  For  the  purpose  of  conferring 
with  him  on  this  important  business,  Bishop  Neale  invited 
him  to  Baltimore,  and  on  his  arrival  made  known  to  him  hit 
wishes  and  the  request  which  he  had  presented  to  the  Sove- 
reign Pontiff;  but  he  could  not  obtain  the  consent  of  Bishop 
Cheverus  to  be  separated  from  his  cherished  flock  in  New 
England.  He  availed  himself,  however,  of  his  visit,  to  re- 
ceive at  his  hands  the  pallium — the  badge  of  his  archiepis- 
copal  rank  and  authority.  This  ceremony  took  place  in  the 
parish  church  at  Georgetown,  on  the  24th  of  November, 
1816.  In  a  letter  of  Bishop  Cheverus  to  Mother  Seton,  he 
informed  her  of  this  circumstance,  adding  that  at  an  early 
hour  on  the  same  day  he  had  celebrated  mass  in  the  chapel 
of  the  Visitation  Convent,  where  the  edifying  scene  around 
him  recalled  vividly  to  his  mind  and  heart  the  happy  mo- 
ments which  he  had  spent  six  years  before  among  the  pious 
inmates  of  St.  Joseph's.  Nor  could  he  refrain,  on  this  occa- 
sion, when  circumstances  had  brought  him  so  near  his  vene- 
rated friend,  the  Mother-superior  of  the  sisterhood,  from 
paying  another  visit  to  her  excellent  institution.  His  stay 
at  Emmettsburg  was  short;  but  it  was  fruitful  in  the  con- 
solations of  their  mutual  faith.  The  terms  in  which  he  al- 
ludes to  the  occasion  show  at  once  the  pleasure  and  edifica- 
tion which  he  had  received  and  which  he  had  diffused 
around  him: — "The  8th  and  9th  of  December,  treasured  up 
in  the  memory  and  affections  of  my  heart  1  Your  excellent 
sisters,  their  happy  and  edifying  pupils,  the  mother  with  bet 
children  in  heaven  and  on  earth, — all,  all  in  my  heart  and  IB 
my  prayers,  and  will  always  be  I" 

Since  the  establishment  of  the  sisterhood,  the  property 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  871 

which  belonged  to  it  had  been  held  in  the  name  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Cooper,  its  generous  benefactor,  and  others  j  but,  as  the 
institution  was  now  flourishing,  and  its  means  were  likely  to 
increase,  it  was  considered  prudent  to  obtain  for  the  society 
an  act  of  incorporation,  in  order  to  guard  against  any  diffi- 
culties that  might  arise  from  imperfection  or  informality  in 
their  legal  tenure.  When  the  subject  was  mentioned  to 
Mother  Seton,  she  asked  what  advantages  would  be  derived 
from  the  incorporation  of  the  sisterhood,  and  she  was  told 
that  one  of  the  principal  objects  of  the  measure  was  to  ob- 
tain for  the  sisters  the  right  to  "  sue  and  be  sued."  "  I  can- 
not think  that  an  advantage,"  she  replied;  but,  as  the  frienda 
of  the  establishment  recommended  the  step,  she  was  pleased 
that  it  should  be  adopted.  An  act  for  the  incorporation  of 
the  sisterhood  was  passed  by  the  legislature  of  Maryland,  in 
January,  1817,  principally  through  the  exertions  of  General 
Harper.*  Immediately  after  this,  the  farm  occupied  by  the 
sisters  was  transferred  to  them  in  their  own  right  by  those 
who  had  previously  held  it.  As  a  mark  of  the  divine  pro- 
tection over  St.  Joseph's  community,  it  is  worthy  of  remark 
that  an  effort  was  made  by  Mr.  Emmett,  who  formerly  owned 
the  land  belonging  to  the  sisters,  with  a  large  portion  of  the 
surrounding  country,  to  recover  the  possession  of  it.  Under 
the  pretence  of  there  being  a  flaw  in  the  early  deeds,  by 
which  the  property  had  passed  from  his  hands,  he  instituted 
a  suit  against  the  sisterhood  which  threatened  to  involve  it 
in  difficulty.  But  Providence  did  not  permit  the  schemes 
of  injustice  to  prevail.  Mother  Seton  and  her  community 
had  recourse  to  prayer.  One  morning,  after  they  had  in- 
voked in  a  special  manner  the  divine  protection,  that  the 


•  The  vote  was  thirty-five  ayes  and  twenty-four  noei,  giving  a  majority 
•f  only  eleven  in  favor  of  an  institution  the  sole  objects  of  which  w«n 
fee  diffusion  of  knowledge  and  the  relief  of  suffering  humanity  1 


872  THE    LIFE    OF 

legal  contest  into  which  they  had  been  drawn  might  have  a 
favorable  issue,  the  intelligence  was  brought  them  that  Mr. 
Emmett,  while  walking  through  the  streets  of  the  village 
which  bore  his  name,  though  apparently  in  good  health,  had 
suddenly  fallen  and  expired.  The  event  produced  a  great 
sensation  throughout  the  country,  and  was  considered  as  an 
intervention  of  the  Almighty  to  arrest  the  further  progress 
of  injustice  against  his  pious  servants.  In  fact,  the  death 
of  Mr.  Emmett  put  an  end  to  the  proceedings  in  court. 

While  God  was  thus  watching  over  the  welfare  of  St.  Jo- 
seph's community,  he  was  opening  a  wider  field  for  the  exer- 
cise of  its  noble  charity.  New  York,  emulating  the  example 
of  Philadelphia,  applied  for  the  services  of  the  sisters  and 
obtained  them.  The  request  was  presented  through  the  Rt. 
Rev.  Dr.  Conolly,  bishop  of  the  former  city.  It  being  the 
native  place  of  Mother  Seton,  the  selection  of  the  sisters 
who  would  be  sent  thither  was  a  matter  of  no  small  import- 
ance, as  they  who  were  to  represent  her  abroad  in  the  life  of 
perfection  which  she  had  embraced  would  be  narrowly 
watched  by  her  former  acquaintances,  and  would  reflect  honor 
or  discredit  upon  her  profession  according  to  their  ability 
and  faithfulness  in  attending  to  the  duties  of  their  charge 
The  mission  was  confided  to  the  care  of  Sister  Rose  White, 
whose  zeal,  piety,  and  engaging  manners  had  already  contri- 
buted vastly  to  the  success  of  the  orphan  asylum  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  eminently  qualified  her  for  undertaking  an  in 
stitution  of  the  same  kind  in  the  city  of  New  York.  She  set 
out  for  that  place  with  two  other  members  of  the  society — 
Sister  Cecilia  0' Con  way  and  Sister  Felicite"  Brady — on  the 
20th  of  June,  1817,  and  commenced  in  an  humble  way  an 
institution  which  was  destined  to  become,  in  the  course  of 
time,  a  most  flourishing  house  of  orphans.  On  this  occa- 
sion, as  before,  Mother  Seton  delivered  concise  but  compre- 
hensive instructions  to  her  spiritual  daughters,  reoomuwnd- 


MRS.   E.   A.   8ETON.  873 

ing  to  them  especially  a  spirit  of  union  and  charity  among 
themselves,  fidelity  to  their  rules,  and  a  kind  manner  to 
strangers.  By  observing  her  wise  counsels  the  sisters  suc- 
ceeded in  their  work  of  charity;  it  went  on  prospering  and 
triumphing  over  all  the  difficulties  which  are  usually  met 
with  in  the  commencement  of  such  undertakings,  until  it 
has  risen  to  a  degree  of  usefulness  unsurpassed  by  any  other 
institution  of  the  kind  in  the  United  States.  When  the 
sisters  went  to  New  York,  they  occupied  as  an  asylum  a 
small  frame  house  which  stood  on  the  site  of  the  present 
spacious  building  in  Prince  Street,  and  only  five  orphans 
were  confided  to  their  care  during  the  first  twelve  months. 
In  the  course  of  another  year  the  number  had  increased  to 
twenty-eight,  one-third  of  whom  were  boys.*(24) 

Shortly  after  Mother  Seton  had  sent  a  colony  of  her 
spiritual  children  to  New  York,  she  had  the  joy  of  again 
smbracing  in  her  arms  her  eldest  son.  During  his  stay 
abroad  she  had  never  failed  to  direct  him  by  her  enlightened 
counsels,  his  practical  respect  for  which  filled  her  with  inex- 
pressible consolation.  "I  see  well,"  she  wrote  to  him,  "that 
integrity  and  filial  love  overrule  all  your  youthful  and  natu- 
ral feelings,  and  I  can  but  be  most  grateful  to  our  God  and 
you  that  they  have  so  long  held  you  under  circumstances  so 
painful  to  you;  for  now  I  have  gained  my  main  object  in 
parting  with  you,  my  beloved  son,  which  was  not  so  much  to 
fix  you  with  affluent  friends,  or  in  a  tide  of  fortune,  as  to 
give  you  time  to  know  yourself  a  little,  to  know  the  world  a 
little,  and  to  overcome  your  first  ardent  propensity  for  the 

*  The  male  orphans  have  been  removed  from  the  house  in  Prince 
Street  to  a  separate  establishment  Before  this  arrangement  was  made, 
there  were  three  hundred  and  twenty-seven  orphans  in  the  house,  of 
whom  one  hundred  and  forty  were  boys  under  eight  years  of  age.  At 
present,  the  male  asylum  contains  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  orphan! 
and  the  female  asylum  two  hundred  and  fifty. 
22 


374  THE    LIFE     OP 

navy — which  I  know  is  even  now  the  passion  of  your  heart  j 
yet  I  would  be  unjust  to  our  tender  affection  if  I  withheld 
my  whole  mind  from  you,  who  have  so  well  unfolded  yours 
to  me,  and  should  conceal  from  you  my  fears,  not  for  your 
dear  person,  my  darling  son,  but  for  the  dear  immortal  ob- 
ject which  your  deceased  sisters  would  now  solicit  you  for 
even  more  earnestly  than  your  poor  mother.  My  soul's 

W ,  I  need  not  tell  you  to  rise  above  the  clouds  that 

surround  us.  You  know  well  enough  that  we  must  pass  our 
course  of  trials  with  the  rest  of  human  beings;  those  who 
have  least  of  them  are  not  the  most  enviable.  For  my  part, 
I  would  think  all  the  pains  I  ever  endured  fully  rewarded 
by  the  sweet  and  unspeakable  pleasure  I  received  in  reading 
your  sentiments  of  love  and  duty  contained  in  your  last  let- 
ters." What  was  the  joy  of  the  meeting  between  such  a 
mother  and  such  a  son,  after  a  separation  of  more  than  two 
years,  may  be  more  easily  imagined  than  described.  Pur- 
suing his  bent  for  the  naval  profession,  Mr.  Seton,  after 
some  months'  stay  near  his  beloved  parent,  embarked  on  a 
cruise  of  three  years.  The  expressions  of  respect  and  love 
in  which  he  wrote  to  her  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  are 
worthy  of  his  mind  and  heart. 

"For  the  third  time  I  sit  down  to  address  you  a  few 
lines.  ...  I  know  your  dearest  heart  is  always  near  me,  and 
I  can  truly  say,  that  employed  or  at  leisure,  in  bed  or  on  my 
watch,  your  dear  image  is  never  absent  from  me.  When  I 
think  of  my  little  room  at  the  Mountain  and  my  daily  visits 
to  St.  Joseph's,  and  compare  them  with  my  present  situa- 
tion, I  cannot  but  wonder  at  my — I  could  almost  call  it 
.nfatuation,  in  ever  wishing  to  leave  a  spot  where  now,  it 
seems,  I  could  be  happy  for  life;  but  there  is  something 
which  impels  me  forward  Surely,  as  some  writer  says,  there 
is  a  tide  in  fate;  else  I  cannot  conceive  what  could  have 
taken  me  from  you.  Yet  I  look  forward  with  pleasure  to 


MRS.   E.   A.    8ETON.  875 

the  time,  if  it  please  God  to  spare  me,  when  I  shall  again 
hold  you  in  my  arms.  Till  then  we  must  be  content  to  read 
each  other's  thoughts."™ 

The  place  vacated  by  Mr.  William  Seton  in  the  mercan- 
tile establishment  of  Mr.  Filicchi  at  Leghorn  having  been 
offered  to  his  brother  Richard,  Mother  Seton  embraced  with 
thankfulness  the  opportunity  of  locating  her  second  son  in 
BO  favorable  a  situation  for  beginning  the  world.  He  ac- 
cordingly set  out  for  Italy  in  the  autumn  of  1817,  after  re- 
ceiving from  his  excellent  parent  the  necessary  counsels  to 
guide  him  in  his  new  position. 

About  the  time  of  his  departure,  Mother  Seton  and  her 
community  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a  visit  from  the 
Rt.  Rev.  William  V.  Dubourg,  who  had  been  the  chief  in- 
strument with  her  in  the  foundation  of  the  sisterhood  at 
Emmettsburg,  and  its  first  ecclesiastical  superior.  Return- 
ing from  Rome,  where  he  had  been  consecrated  Bishop  of 
New  Orleans,  he  could  not  deny  himself  the  satisfaction  of 
viewing  the  progress  of  an  institution  with  whose  interests 
he  had  been  so  immediately  connected,  but  from  which  he 
had  been  for  several  years  far  removed  in  the  discharge  of 
other  arduous  duties.  He  now  witnessed  the  abundant 
fruits  of  the  undertaking  which  he  had  originally  suggested 
and  so  earnestly  promoted.  The  little  mustard-seed  had 
sprung  up  into  a  tree  of  stately  growth,  and  was  diffusing  far 
and  wide  its  refreshing  shade.  The  sisterhood,  with  upward 
of  thirty  members,  filled  with  zeal  for  their  sanctification, — 
the  academy,  with  more  than  seventy  pupils,  who  were  receiv- 
ing the  blessings  of  a  solid  and  religious  education, — orphans 
at  home  and  abroad  sheltered  from  the  frowns  of  a  pitiless 
world,  under  the  maternal  care  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity, — 
Buch  was  the  gratifying  spectacle  which  St.  Joseph's  House 
presented,  and  the  contemplation  of  which  could  not  but 
awaken  sentiments  of  uiutual  and  most  lively  joy  between 


376  THE    LIFE    Of 

him  and  Mother  Seton.  During  his  stay  at  Emmettsburg, 
Bishop  Dubourg  administered  the  sacrament  of  confirma- 
tion to  several  of  the  pupils  and  novices.  After  having 
taken  a  last  farewell  of  the  institution,  he  addressed  a  very 
friendly  letter  to  its  venerated  superioress,  in  which  he  says : — 
"In  a  few  days  I  am  to  launch  into  the  career  allotted  to 
me.  Pray  that  I  may  rue  it  to  the  term  with  unwearied 
constancy,  notwithstanding  the  great  obstacles  that  may  be 
thrown  in  my  way.  Pray  that  I  may  become  the  model  of 
my  flock,  and  that,  by  avoiding  all  those  faults  which  perhaps 
were  the  cause  of  my  failure  in  my  first  attempt,  I  may  de- 
serve to  be  the  instrument  of  the  mercy  of  my  God  upon  so 
many  thousand  ignorant,  deluded,  or  corrupt  souls,  whose 
salvation  is  in  a  certain  measure  committed  to  my  care.  Oh, 
my  dear  Mother,  what  a  charge !  Enough  to  make  one  sink 
under  its  weight,  if  a  proportionate  assistance  should  for  a 
moment  be  withdrawn.  Pity  me,  and  pray  for  me."l26) 

In  the  month  of  February,  1818,  the  church  at  Em- 
mettsburg  suffered  a  severe  loss,  by  the  death  of  the  Rev. 
Charles  Duhamel,  who  had  for  several  years  attended  the 
congregation  of  the  village  and  occasionally  assisted  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Dubois  in  his  duties  at  the  sisterhood.  He  had 
formerly  exercised  the  holy  ministry  at  Cayenne,  in  French 
Guiana,  whither  he  had  been  sent  from  the  seminary  du 
Saint  Esprit  at  Paris,  in  1784,  together  with  the  Rev. 
Messrs.  Moranville*  and  He"rard,  his  fellow-students  in  the 
same  institution.  His  physical  strength,  however,  was  far 
from  being  equal  to  the  labors  of  that  trying  mission,  and  he 
came  to  the  United  States,  where  he  was  appointed  by  Arch- 
bishop Carroll  to  the  pastoral  charge  of  Hagerstown,  in 
Maryland,  and  subsequently  to  that  of  the  congregation  of 
Emmettsburg.*  He  was  a  zealous  and  energetic  priest,  and 

•  Detultory  Sketches  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  Maryland;  by  B.  U. 
Campbell,  published  in  the  Religious  Cabinet,  p.  437. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  877 

rendered  important  services  in  the  last-mentioned  situation; 
but  the  bodily  infirmities  which  he  suffered  frequently  inter- 
rupted his  useful  labors,  and  at  length  terminated  his  life 
By  the  loss  of  Eev.  Mr.  Duhamel,  Mr.  Dubois  felt  more 
heavily  the  pressure  of  his  multiplied  and  arduous  occupa- 
tions. His  onerous  duties  at  Mt.  St.  Mary's  College  and  St. 
Joseph's  sisterhood  and  academy,  which  were  steadily  in- 
creasing, together  with  those  of  his  parochial  charge,  made  it 
absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  have  the  aid  of  some 
active  and  efficient  clergyman.  This  was  the  more  requisite 
as  the  Rev.  John  Hickey,  who  had  for  several  years  assisted 
him  in  his  ministerial  functions,  was  soon  recalled  to  St. 
Mary's  College  in  Baltimore.  The  ardent  zeal  and  indomi- 
table energy  of  Mr.  Dubois  could  alone  have  sustained  him 
amid  the  labors  and  difficulties  of  his  situation.  Since  the 
year  1813,  the  course  of  study  at  the  college  had  been  con- 
siderably enlarged.  Besides  the  elementary  branches  of  an 
English  education,  the  French  language  had  been  introduced, 
and  the  Latin  and  Greek  more  extensively  taught;  to  which 
were  added  the  higher  departments  of  mathematics,  with  a 
course  of  rhetoric  and  moral  philosophy.  "As  the  original 
design  of  Mt.  St.  Mary's  Seminary  was  to  prepare  young 
men  for  the  study  of  theology,  those  of  the  students  who 
gave  evidence  of  a  true  vocation  were  transferred  to  St. 
Mary's  Seminary,  at  Baltimore,  as  soon  as  their  preparatory 
studies  were  completed.  So  eager  was  Mr.  Dubois  to  supply 
that  great  want  of  our  country, — a  body  of  educated  and  edi- 
fying priests, — so  improvident  almost  in  the  liberality  with 
which  he  opened  the  doors  of  his  humble  institution  to  all 
who  longed  to  devote  themselves  to  the  work  of  the  holy 
ministry,  that  he  furnished  from  year  to  year  a  considerable 
number  of  ecclesiastical  candidates,  most  of  whom  have  since 
become  ornaments  of  the  sanctuary,  to  which,  in  all  proba- 
bility, they  would  never  have  been  admitted  but  for  the  little 
32» 


878  THE    LIFE    Of 

nursery  then  established  near  Emmettsburg.  When  it  if 
remembered  that  Mr.  Dubois  came  from  Frederick  penni- 
less,— that  all  his  property  was  acquired  on  credit, — that  he 
was  continually  making  expensive  improvements, — and  when 
it  is  added  that  he  was  frequently  imposed  upon  in  his  deal- 
ings with  others, — that  his  accounts  were  not  strictly  kept, 
and  that  however  poor  and  straitened,  he  could  never  turn  a 
deaf  ear  to  the  cry  of  want,  and  did  not  hesitate  even  out  of 
his  own  poverty  to  aid  other  meritorious  undertakings, — we 
cannot  be  surprised  that  he  should  soon  find  himself  embar- 
rassed and  almost  overwhelmed  by  pecuniary  difficulties. 
Still  he  struggled  on  with  his  characteristic  energy  and  per- 
severance, with  a  noble,  self-sacrificing  devotion  to  his  good 
cause,  and  with  a  firm  reliance  on  the  protection  of  God. 
He  was  cheered,  too,  by  the  visits,  and  aided  and  encouraged 
by  the  friendly  counsels,  of  the  first  Archbishop  of  Balti- 
more, of  the  sweet  and  saintly  Cheverus,  and  of  Mr.  Du- 
bourg,  the  prime  mover  in  many  of  the  greatest  works  that 
have  been  undertaken  in  this  country  for  the  promotion  of 
education  and  religion."*  As  superior  of  the  institutions 
under  his  charge,  Mr.  Dubois  enjoyed  the  highest  regard 
and  confidence.  "He  was  respected  and  beloved  by  his 
teachers  and  pupils.  He  was  dignified,  without  being  dis- 
tant; always  kind  and  amiable,  yet  firm  in  exacting  diligence 
and  maintaining  discipline.  He  took  evident  pleasure  in 
applauding  and  rewarding.  He  always  carried  with  him  the 
affection  and  admiration  of  those  about  him."f  In  the  hap- 
py results  of  his  paternal  and  successful  administration  he 
found  a  true  solace  and  compensation  under  the  trying  and 
oftentimes  disheartening  circumstances  of  his  position,  while 


•  Sketch  of  ML  St.  Mary's  College ;  by  an  Alumnus,  in  United 
Catholic  Magazine,  vol.  T.  1846,  p.  39. 
f  [bid.,  p.  40. 


MRS.    E     A.    PETON.  379 

he  was  greatly  relieved  in  his  arduous  duties  by  the  young 
men  who  were  aspirants  to  the  sanctuary.  But  his  chief 
consolation  and  support  were  derived  from  "the  friendship 
and  co-operation  of  him  who  was  justly  styled  '  the  angel- 
guardian  of  the  mountain.' "  This  was  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brute", 
who  is  aiready  known  to  the  reader.  Since  his  return  from 
Europe,  in  the  autumn  of  1815,  he  had  been  president  of  St. 
Mary's  College  at  Baltimore,  and  filled  that  office  with  dis- 
tinction. In  the  rising  institution  at  Emmettsburg  he  felt 
the  liveliest  interest,  and  neglected  no  opportunity  of  fur- 
thering its  prosperity.  "Without  his  assistance,"  observes 
the  writer  already  quoted,  "  it  was  impossible  that  the  great 
works  for  the  promotion  of  religion,  education,  and  charity, 
commenced  in  the  neighborhood  of  Emmettsburg,  should 
have  been  successfully  carried  on."  Mr.  Brute"  became  again 
a  resident  at  the  Mountain  and  the  assistant  of  Mr.  Dubois,  in 
the  winter  of  1818.  Soon  after  his  arrival  in  this  new  field 
of  labor,  the  study  of  theology  was  introduced  into  the  semi- 
nary, and  he  was  appointed  professor  of  divinity  and  lecturer 
on  Sacred  Scripture.  At  the  same  time  he  had  charge  of 
one  or  two  classes  in  the  collegiate  department,  where  he 
displayed  an  extraordinary  tact  in  the  communication  of 
knowledge.  The  institution  also  derived  considerable  benefit 
from  the  large  and  valuable  library  which  he  had  brought 
with  him,  consisting  of  nearly  five  thousand  volumes.  In 
addition  to  these  occupations,  Mr.  Brute*  was  pastor  of  the 
congregation  at  Emmettsburg  and  confessor  to  the  growing 
community  at  St.  Joseph's;  and,  notwithstanding  the  variety 
and  importance  of  his  duties,  he  fulfilled  them  all  with  a 
zeal  and  ability  that  are  rarely  witnessed.  "His  lessons 
of  heavenly  wisdom  and  piety,  illustrated  and  enforced  by 
his  own  example,  were  irresistible  in  their  effects,"  and 
all  his  efforts  were  crowned  with  the  most  abundant  suo- 


880  THE   LIFE   or 

Mother  Seton  entertained  a  high  regard  for  Mr  Brut£ 
as  a  director  of  souls,  and  during  his  late  residence  in  Balti- 
more, as  well  as  previously,  had  maintained  a  constant  cor- 
respondence with  him  on  spiritual  subjects.  About  the 
time  that  he  entered  upon  his  duties  at  the  sisterhood, 
Mother  Seton  was  laboring  under  a  violent  inflammation  of 
the  lungs,  which  threatened  to  put  an  end  to  her  invaluable 
life.  While  others  were  filled  with  grief  at  the  uncertain 
state  of  her  health,  she  herself  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of 
her  departure  from  this  vale  of  tears.  She  had  never  con- 
sidered herself  any  thing  more  than  the  cement  of  her  good 
sisters;  and  now  that  the  institution,  both  as  a  house  of  reli- 
gious perfection  and  an  establishment  of  education,  had  be- 
come consolidated  and  promised  to  be  permanently  useful, 
and  her  children  in  the  order  of  nature  had  reached  a  ma- 
ture age,  she  thought  that  it  was  a  proper  moment  for  her  to 
leave  the  world.  She  therefore  directed  all  her  thoughts  to 
the  happiness  of  a  good  death,  which  was  the  object  of  her 
most  ardent  aspirations;  and  in  soliciting  the  prayers  of  her 
friends  she  begged  them  not  only  to  dismiss  their  anxiety, 
but  to  bless  the  providence  of  God  which  seemed  to  call  her 
to  her  rest.  Writing  to  one  of  her  former  pupils  at  thia 
time,  on  the  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  her  youngest  daugh- 
ter, she  closes  her  letter  with  a  most  lively  expression  of  her 
faith  and  her  desire  to  be  released  from  the  bonds  of  mor- 
tality:— "Rebecca's  birthday!  she  would  be  sixteen:  _ut 
counts  time  no  more.  What  a  thought !  to  go  to  Aer,  and  out 
ANNINA  !  to  go  to  GOD !"  Bishop  Cheverus,  on  receiving 
the  intelligence  of  her  illness  and  of  her  desire  to  be  with 
Christ,  wrote  to  her,  that,  far  from  pitying,  he  en?ied  her 
situation,  hastening  as  she  was  to  the  embraces  of  Him  who 
is  love  and  of  the  saints  of  whom  she  had  been  the  happy 
mother.  "You  will  meet  in  heaven,"  he  continues,  "the 
venerable  and  dearest  friend  who  is  going  to  be  taken  from 


MRS.    X.    A.    SETON.  881 

me.  Dear  sister,  pray  that  I  may  be  endowed  with  some 
portion  of  your  faith  and  resignation." 

Divine  Providence,  however,  did  not  permit  these  two 
holy  souls  to  quit  the  world  together.  Dr.  Matignon,  to 
whom  Bishop  Cheverus  alluded,  was  soon  called  to  the  re- 
compense of  his  many  virtues,  while  Mother  Seton  was  re- 
served for  the  greater  blessing  of  the  community  over  which 
she  presided.128'  That  same  year,  by  a  special  exception 
which  the  constitutions  of  the  society  had  made  in  her  case, 
her  election  to  the  office  of  Mother  for  a  third  consecutive 
term  was  confirmed.*  Retained  in  this  responsible  situa- 
tion, she  discharged  the  duties  which  it  imposed  with  aa 
much  activity  as  was  permitted  by  the  very  feeble  state  of 
her  health.  The  disease  which  had  seized  upon  her  consti- 
tution was  gradually  undermining  her  strength,  and  she  held 
herself  in  readiness,  by  a  continual  preparation  of  heart,  for 
the  call  of  her  heavenly  Spouse.  "  I  cannot  die  one  way," 
she  wrote  to  a  friend;  "so  I  try  to  die  the  other,  and  keep 
the  straight  path  to  God  alone.  The  little  daily  lesson,  to 
keep  soberly  and  quietly  in  his  presence,  trying  to  turn 
every  little  action  on  his  will,  and  to  praise  and  love  through 
cloud  or  sunshine,  is  all  my  care  and  study.  Satan  offers  his 
battles  from  time  to  time,  but  our  Beloved  stands  behind 
the  wall  and  keeps  the  wretch  at  his  distance." 

Mother  Seton  extended  her  vigilant  care  to  the  charitable 
labors  of  her  spiritual  daughters  abroad,  as  well  as  to  matters 
more  immediately  under  her  eye.  She  not  only  taught  them 
by  her  wise  counsels  how  to  proceed  in  the  holy  work  they 
had  undertaken,  inculcating  maxims  of  prudence,  charity, 
and  patient  endurance  of  the  trials  they  had  to  encounter; 
•he  watched  particularly  over  their  wants,  and  manifested 

•  In  a  letter  to  a  Slater  of  Charity,  she  called  thii  an  election  «f  the 


882  THE    LIFE    OF 

toward  thsm  in  every  respect  the  tender  solicitude  of  • 
mother  She  thus  wrote  to  a  sister  on  one  of  the  missions, 
who  was  indisposed,  and  a  little  discouraged  in  not  being 
able  to  attend  fully  to  her  charge.  "  My  own  dear  sister, 
I  take  a  laugh  and  a  cry  at  your  flannels  and  plasters 
Never  mind;  GOD  is  GOD  in  it  all.  If  you  are  to  do  hip 
work,  the  strength  will  be  given  you :  if  not,  my  precious 
child,  some  one  else  will  do  it,  and  you  may  come  back  to  your 
corner.  No  great  affair  where  his  dear  atom  is,  if  only  his 
will  is  done.  Peace,  dearest  soul,  from  our  Jesus.  I  look 
a  long  look  at  our  dear  crucifix  for  you.  All  are  here  nearly 
as  you  left :  our  faithful  God  the  same !  Ever  your  little 
mother."  She  thus  directs  a  sister  about  to  undertake  a 
distant  charge : — "  Knowing  as  I  do  so  well  your  heart's  full 
desire  to  serve  our  Lord  purely,  I  can  say  nothing  to  you, 
dearest  soul,  but  to  keep  well  to  what  you  believe  to  be  the 
grace  of  the  moment.  You  will  so  often  be  at  a  stand  for 
what  is  best  in  a  situation  so  new ;  but  only  do  for  the  best 
as  you  always  have  done,  and  leave  the  rest  for  our  dear 
God.  Try  only  to  keep  in  mind,  as  I  know  you  wish,  to  be 
guarded  and  very  careful  in  disapproving  or  changing  any 
thing  until  you  have  been  there  a  while  and  can  see  through 
the  meaning  of  every  thing.  Oh,  may  our  dear  Lord 
strengthen  you  in  that  point,  and  you  will  see  how  well  all 
will  go  after  a  little  while.  We  separate,  dear  child,  but 
you  go  to  do  what  we  stay  to  do, — the  dear  will  of  God, — all 
we  care  for  in  this  poor  life.  May  he  bless  you  forever  1" 
On  another  occasion,  Mother  Seton  having  resolved  to  send 
abroad,  on  the  work  of  charity,  a  sister  who  had  a  particular 
attraction  for  a  cloistersd  life,  put  into  her  hand  the  follow- 
ing instruction  previously  to  her  departure : — "  My  own  dear 
wster :  going  on  her  heavenly  errand,  and  to  crucify  self! 
Bad,  wicked  thing!  you  owe  it  a  good  grudge;  pay  it  well 
My  child,  often  I  shall  say  in  my  solitude  among  a  hundred, 


MRS.   E.   A.    8ETON.  383 

'  My  sister  is  with  you,  my  God  !  I  find  her  in  you :  every 
moment  she  will  be  serving  you  and  loving  you  with  me.'  .  . 
Love  our  Mother  above :  she  will  comfort  you.  I  do  not  feel 
the  least  uneasiness  about  you.  If  you  suffer,  so  much  the 
better  for  our  high  journey  above.  The  only  fear  I  have  is, 
that,  you  will  let  the  old  string  pull  too  hard  for  solitude  and 
silence :  but  look  to  the  kingdom  of  SOULS — the  few  to  work 
in  the  vineyard  of  our  Lord.  This  is  not  a  country  for  soli 
tude  and  silence,  but  for  warfare  and  crucifixion.  You  are 
not  to  stay  in  his  silent  agonies  of  the  garden  at  night,  but 
go  from  post  to  pillar,  to  the  very  fastening  of  the  cross. 
And  mind,  my  lady,  how  you  glance  a  thought  at  pulling 
out  the  nail  which  he  put  in  with  my  hand,  while  his  own  so 
dear  will  hammer  it  up  to  the  very  head,  I  expect !  I  beg 
him,  with  a  mother's  agony,  to  do  it  softly  and  tenderly 
I  would  wish  to  hold  your  dear  head  while  he  does  it; 
but  he  answers,  'no  one  held  his:'  but  yet  he  will  hold 
himself,  supporting  with  one  hand  and  fastening  with  the 
other.  My  sister,  child  of  my  soul,  to  God  I  commend 
you." 

One  of  the  objects  most  dear  to  the  heart  of  Mother 
Seton  was  the  erection  of  a  chapel  which  would  redound  to 
the  greater  honor  of  God  and  afford  better  accommodations 
for  her  community.  "  We  have  a  dwelling  for  ourselves  and 
pupils,"  she  said;  "why  cannot  we  have  a  small  but  neat 
chapel  for  the  dear  Master  who  condescends  to  reside  among 
as  on  our  altars  ?"  Having  been  informed  by  the  treasurer 
that  the  house  was  out  of  debt  and  held  funds  to  the  amount 
jf  sixteen  hundred  dollars,  she  thought  that  preparations 
might  be  commenced  for  the  proposed  building.  As  soon  as 
her  health  permitted,  she  walked  over  the  premises  with 
«ome  of  the  sisters,  and  pointed  out  the  spot  where  th« 
church  should  be  situated.  At  the  same  time,  a  portion  of 
the  materials  was  obtained  for  the  purpose ;  but  upon  fat- 


384  THE  LIFE  or 

ther  deliberation  it  was  deemed  more  prudent  to  defer  iti 
execution.* 

Another  project  that  Mother  Seton  fondly  cherished 
was  to  provide  a  suitable  building  for  the  gratuitous  instruc- 
tion of  the  poor  children  of  the  neighborhood.  A  free  school 
had  been  conducted  at  St.  Joseph's  as  far  as  the  limited  ac- 
commodations of  the  house  permitted ;  but  it  was  desirable 
to  make  better  arrangements  for  this  department  of  the  in- 
stitution. For  this  purpose  a  two-story  brick  building  was 
erected  in  1820,  where  the  children  of  the  poorer  class  re- 
ceived the  benefits  of  daily  instruction  and  were  also  pro- 
vided with  a  substantial  meal.  About  twenty  children  at- 
tended this  school  in  its  commencement,  and  were  always 
objects  of  the  tenderest  care  on  the  part  of  Mother  Seton. 
A  free  school  had  also  been  opened  in  Philadelphia,  in  1818, 
for  the  children  of  the  German  Church.  Thus,  by  the  sup- 
port of  the  orphan  and  the  instruction  of  the  poor,  did  the 
work  of  charity  advance  toward  that  vast  system  of  benefi- 
cence which  was  to  arise  at  a  later  period  from  the  self- 
sacrificing  devotion  of  the  sisters  of  St.  Joseph's  community. 

While  the  community  was  thus  extending  its  usefulness, 
it  pleased  the  Almighty  to  call  several  of  its  more  valuable 
members  to  their  heavenly  reward.  The  first  of  these  was 
Sister  Mary  Joseph  Llewellen,  who,  with  three  of  her  com- 
panions, had  entered  the  society  in  1814,  after  having  been 
candidates  for  the  order  of  Trappists.(29)  She  was  remark- 
able for  her  piety,  and  closed  her  life  on  the  25th  of  May, 
1816,  by  a  death  precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  She  was 
followed  to  her  eternal  home,  the  next  day,  by  Sister  Martina 
Quinn,  who  had  entered  the  society  in  1810.  This  young 
person  possessed  great  simplicity,  and,  during  the  six  yean 

•  An  elegant  structure  waa  erected,  at  a  later  period,  on  the  spot 
Mlccted  by  Mother  Seton. 


MRS.    £.   A.    SETON.  385 

that  she  passed  at  St.  Joseph's,  was  employed  chiefly  in  the 
academy,  where  she  made  herself  very  useful  by  her  talents 
and  her  kind  and  affable  manner.  At  the  time  of  her  de- 
cease she  had  not  yet  reached  her  twenty-second  year.  On 
the  20th  of  December,  Sister  Magdalen  Gue'rin  closed  her 
career  of  self-denial  by  a  most  peaceful  and  happy  death. 
Having  come  with  her  sister  from  La  Martinique,  in  1811, 
she  also  accompanied  her  to  St.  Joseph's,  where  the  latter 
entered  the  community  as  a  candidate  for  the  sisterhood, 
while  she  herself  remained  there  as  a  boarder,  and  placed 
her  son  at  Mt.  St.  Mary's  College.  During  the  voyage  from 
La  Martinique  to  the  United  States,  amid  the  dangers  of  the 
sea,  Madame  Gue'rin  had  made  a  vow  to  wear  a  brown  dress 
for  three  months,  in  honor  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  if 
she  reached  her  destination  in  safety.*  On  her  arrival  at 
St.  Joseph's,  she  faithfully  fulfilled  her  obligation ;  and  such 
were  the  impressions  of  divine  grace  in  her  heart  that  she 
resolved  to  make  an  entire  offering  of  herself  to  God  in  the 
service  of  her  neighbor.  Before  the  time  for  wearing  the 
brown  dress  had  expired,  she  requested  to  be  admitted  among 
the  candidates  of  St.  Joseph's  community,  and  afterward 
assumed  the  name  of  Sister  Madeleine.  Having  been  accus- 
tomed to  the  ease  and  luxury  of  a  West  India  life,  she  had 
many  privations  to  endure  in  her  new  situation ;  but,  led  by 
the  spirit  of  God,  she  cheerfully  embraced  these  opportuni- 
ties of  self-denial,  and  soon  made  rapid  progress  in  the  way 
of  perfection.  She  sought  with  avidity  the  most  humble 
offices;  and  oftentimes  her  hands,  which  were  very  delicate 

*  The  Blessed  Virgin  is  honored  by  any  act  of  Christian  virtue.  Brown 
being  a  penitential  color,  and  unusual  among  ladies  in  the  world,  it  was 
an  act  of  humility  and  self-denial  in  Madame  Gue'rin  to  wear  it  for  threa 
months.  This  dross,  which  she  wore  at  St.  Joseph's,  suggested  the  idea 
of  adopting  the  same  color  for  the  habit  of  the  novices,  to  distinguish 
(hem  froin  the  sisters. 
It 


8R6  THE    LIFE    07 

and  well-formed,  would  bleed  from  exposure  during  th« 
winter,  in  performing  the  rough  work  in  which  she  was  em- 
ployed. On  one  occasion,  as  she  was  descending  the  stair- 
way with  a  bucket  in  her  hand,  she  met  the  reverend  su- 
perior, who  was  on  his  way  to  administer  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
meat  to  one  of  the  sisters.  Fearing  lest  she  had  manifested 
some  disrespect,  though  she  was  not  aware  that  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  was  passing  her,  she  took  the  first  opportunity  of 
going  on  her  knees  to  the  superior,  to  ask  his  pardon ;  but 
he  replied,  "  What  offence  have  you  given  ?  The  God  of  all 
charity  met  a  Sister  of  Charity  performing  an  act  of  charity. 
Hdw  could  he  be  displeased?"  Though  her  union  with  God 
made  her  generally  silent,  her  ever-ready  smile  and  obliging 
disposition  showed  that  she  was  only  the  more  willing  to 
serve  her  companions.  During  the  sickness  that  terminated 
her  life,  as  well  as  during  health,  she  greatly  edified  the 
community  by  her  lively  fai4h  and  fervent  piety,  and  left 
among  her  sisters  a  vivid  recollection  of  her  bright  example. 
The  following  year,  June  20,  Sister  Mary  Theresa  Egan 
niece  of  Bishop  Egan  of  Philadelphia,  died  the  death  of  the 
just,  after  the  most  diligent  efforts  to  perfect  herself  in  the 
love  of  God.  April  21,  1818,  the  sisterhood  lost  the  edify- 
ing example  of  Sister  Ellen  Brady,  a  most  promising  novice. 
Mildness,  patience,  readiness  to  assist  and  do  her  utmost, 
humble  compliance  with  advice,  an  equal  temper  of  mind, 
very  willing  to  support  the  weaknesses  of  others  and  to  spare 
them  her  own, — such  were  the  characteristics  of  her  virtue. 
November  6,  died  Sister  Mary  Elizabeth  Wagner,  who  was 
born  and  educated  in  a  Methodist  family,  but,  urged  by  di- 
vine grace,  she  was  not  satisfied  until  she  had  become  a  mem- 
ber of  the  true  Church,  which  she  designated  as  the  Church 
of  the  apostles.  "  Luther  is  Luther,"  she  used  to  say  to  her 
family,  who  were  not  so  solicitous  as  herself  on  the  subject  of 
religion;  "Calvin  is  Calvin;  Wesley  is  Wesley:  but  where  if 


MRS.   K.    A.    SETON.  387 

the  Church  of  the  apostles  ?"  With  a  view  of  obtaining  fur- 
ther information  on  this  point,  she  was  conducted  by  a  Catho- 
lic relative  to  St.  Joseph's,  where  she  soon  found  the  object 
of  her  search.  She  took  great  pains  to  become  instructed  in 
the  Catholic  faith,  after  which  she  entered  the  novitiate,  and 
was  most  happy  and  exemplary  to  her  last  hour.  She  was 
followed,  on  the  20th  of  the  same  month,  by  Sister  Mary 
Ignatia  Torney,  who  was  also  a  convert  to  the  true  faith. 
The  next  year,  August  10,  occurred  the  first  death  among 
the  sisters  employed  on  the  mission :  it  was  that  of  Sister 
Camilla  Corish,  which  took  place  at  Philadelphia.  On  the 
20th  of  August,  1820,  the  community  suffered  a  great  loss 
by  the  demise  of  Sister  Jane  Frances  Gartland,  who,  after 
having  been  educated  in  the  house,  entered  the  sisterhood  in 
1812,  and  passed  through  her  novitiate  with  much  consola- 
tion to  herself  and  edification  to  those  around  her.  Endowed 
with  excellent  talents,  she  took  part  in  the  duties  of  the 
academy,  and  held  the  chief  office  as  angel  of  the  school.* 
Subsequently,  she  was  called  to  the  duties  of  treasurer  of 
the  institution,  and  filled  that  employment  until  her  death. 
The  same  year,  November  17,  Sister  Mary  Theresa  Mills,  a 
novice,  was  called  to  her  reward. 

*  The  prefects  at  St.  Joseph's  Academy  were  called  angel*,  to  imply 
that  they  were  the  guardians  of  the  pupils  and  were  to  exercise  a  con- 
stant anc  benevolent  watchfulness  over  tt  eir  conduct  The  nmme  :•  ttUl 
r«Uin«d. 


388  THE    LIFE    OF 


BOOK  X 

Mother  Seton's  literary  taste — Her  genius  and  writings — Conversation*" 
powers — Impressiveness  and  propriety  of  manner — Affection  for  her 
children — Kindness  to  all — Gratitude — Friendship — How  appreciated 
— Charity  to  the  poor — Austerity  to  herself — Interior  trials — -Combat 
of  self  by  obedience — Conformity  to  the  Divine  will — Spirit  of  the  cross 
— Humility — Faith — Zeal  for  the  spiritual  kingdom — Ite  happy  effects 
— Her  devotion  to  the  Mother  of  God — Her  lost  illness  and  sentiments 
during  it — Her  death. 

HAVING  now  approached  the  conclusion  of  those  events 
which  fill  up  the  life  of  Mother  Seton,  particularly  in  her 
relations  as  a  parent,  the  superior  of  a  religious  community, 
and  the  principal  of  an  academy  for  young  ladies,  it  only 
remains,  for  the  completion  of  the  narrative,  to  record  the 
circumstances  of  her  last  illness.  But,  before  we  proceed 
to  this  task,  we  shall  lay  before  the  reader  other  incidents 
and  facts,  which,  belonging  more  particularly  to  her  every- 
day life,  could  not  be  conveniently  introduced  into  the  pre- 
ceding narrative,  yet  furnish  materials  for  the  full  por- 
trayal of  her  character. 

Endowed  with  a  strong  mind,  and  resolved  from  he? 
early  years  upon  the  task  of  self-improvement,  she  found 
great  delight  in  books,  especially  those  which  treated  on 
spiritual  subjects.  Her  reading  was  extensive  and  of  a  mis- 
cellaneous  character :  but  the  Holy  Scripture  was  pre-emi- 
nently the  study  of  Mrs.  Seton.  Even  before  she  was  a 
Catholic,  she  was  in  the  habit  of  poring  over  the  Protestant 
Bible,  especially  the  Book  of  Psalms,  and  frequently  would 
•hut  herself  up  in  a  room  with  darkened  windows,  for  the 


MRS     E.   A.    8ETON.  889 

more  quiet  pursuit  of  this  her  favorite  occupation.*  To  her 
intimate  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures,  even  as  she  pos- 
sessed them,  may  we  attribute  in  a  great  measure,  under 
God,  her  first  enlightened  views  of  the  true  faith  and  her 
final  determination  to  abandon  the  errors  of  Protestantism 
After  her  admission  into  the  saving  fold  of  Catholicity,  she 
still  continued  the  salutary  practice  of  reading  the  inspired 
writings.  By  it  she  acquired  a  great  facility  in  the  felicitous 
application  of  the  sacred  text  for  the  illustration  of  the 
subjects  on  which  she  either  wrote  or  conversed.  It  was 
her  custom  also  to  make  extracts  from  the  divine  records  aa 
well  as  from  other  sources  of  instruction ;  and  it  is  plain,  from 
the  manuscripts  which  she  has  left,  that  she  applied  herself 
to  this  study  with  equal  diligence  and  pleasure. 

Her  mind,  stored  with  useful  knowledge,  had  all  the  quali- 
ties that  could  render  it  a  source  of  profitable  enjoyment  to 
herself  and  enable  her  to  use  it  with  powerful  effect  upon 
others.  With  a  penetrating  intellect  trained  to  habits  of 
reflection,  and  a  lively  fancy,  she  caught  a  vivid  perception 
of  things  and  felt  them  in  the  very  depths  of  her  soul : 
hence  the  copiousness  and  vigor  of  thought  and  beauty  of 
metaphorical  illustration,  with  the  persuasive  force  and 
elegant  appropriateness  of  expression,  which  characterize  her 
writings.  In  her  letters  and  other  productions  of  her  pen 
the  stamp  of  genius  is  everywhere  visible.  Nature  had 
gifted  her  with  a  deeply  poetical  soul.  Her  mind  was  of 
that  just  and  comprehensive  mould  that  made  it  keenly 
sensitive  to  the  beautiful  and  true  and  predisposed  it  for  the 
happiest  inspirations  of  the  muse.  Few  of  her  poetical 
compositions  are  extant :  but,  had  she  left  no  other  writing 
of  this  description  than  the  hymn  "Jerusalem,  my  happy 

•  It  may  be  saia  that  she  complied  literally,  according  to  her  know- 
ledge, with  St.  Jerom's  advice : — "  Noctunia  versate  manu,  venate 
diurna." 

83* 


890  THE    LIFE    OT 

home,"  it  would  be  sufficient  to  win  her  the  praise  of  con. 
giderable  merit  in  this  department  of  literature/80'  The 
melody  which  she  adapted  to  it  was  also  her  composition, 
and  shows  that  she  possessed  musical  talents  of  a  high  order. 

Mother  Seton  devoted  much  of  her  time  to  writing.  One 
of  her  characteristics  was  to  be  always  occupied ;  and  when 
not  employed  in  the  class-room  or  the  choir,  she  was  dili- 
gently engaged  with  the  pen.  The  vast  correspondence 
which  she  carried  on  with  the  clergy  and  laity  imposed  on 
her  a  very  arduous  duty.  Besides  the  parents  and  guardians 
of  the  children  under  her  charge,  and  other  persons  to  whom 
she  wrote  on  business  affairs,  there  were  many  in  the  former 
circle  of  her  friends,  and  among  those  who  had  been  educated 
at  St  Joseph's,  whom  she  favored  with  her  instructive  and 
edifying  letters,  and  who  deemed  it  a  happiness  to  maintain 
this  epistolary  correspondence  with  one  whose  virtues  in- 
spired them  with  so  much  admiration.  The  ecclesiastical 
superior  of  the  sisterhood,  justly  appreciating  the  readiness 
of  her  pen,  turned  it  to  very  profitable  account  for  the  benefit 
of  her  community.  When  not  occupied  with  her  corre- 
spondence or  other  duties,  she  was  actively  employed  in  pre- 
paring instructions  or  meditations  for  the  inmates  of  the 
sisterhood  and  academy,  extracting  or  translating  from 
various  authors  the  most  useful  passages  of  their  writings 
Her  acquaintance  with  the  French  ascetic  literature  was  very 
extensive;  and  the  translations  which  she  has  left,  while  they 
are  a  monument  of  her  talent  and  her  faith,  are  also  a  valu- 
able legacy  to  her  spiritual  children,  a  fountain  of  heavenly 
instruction  for  themselves  and  others.(81) 

In  conversation  Mother  Seton  possessed  a  great  command 
of  language,  and  was  remarkable  for  the  captivating  power 
of  her  words.  After  an  interview  with  her,  Archbishop 
Mare"chal  remarked  to  a  friend  that  he  was  struck  with  her 
peculiar  and  happy  manner  of  communicating  her  senti- 


MRS.    E.   A.   SETON  891 

menta.  On  another  occasion,  when  Mr.  Dubois  wished  to 
prevail  upon  Bishops  Cheverus  and  Egan,  then  on  a  visit  to 
the  Mountain,  to  remain  one  day  longer  than  they  had  pro- 
posed, he  had  recourse  to  Mother  Seton's  influence  as  the 
most  effectual  means  of  success,  assuring  her  that,  "  if  her 
insinuating  eloquence  had  half  the  effect  upon  them  that  it 
exerted  over  him,  he  would  not  fail  to  obtain  his  request." 
But  words  alone  were  not  the  secret  of  Mother  Seton's  con- 
versational power.  It  was  an  ardor  of  soul  beaming  from 
her  eye,  lighting  up  her  whole  countenance,  combined  with 
a  singular  mildness  and  unction  of  words  that  compelled  a 
most  earnest  attention  and  seldom  failed  to  accomplish  the 
object  in  view.  A  gentleman  of  New  York,  who  had  two 
daughters  at  St.  Joseph's  Academy,  paid  a  visit  to  the  insti- 
tution. He  was  but  a  nominal  Catholic,  and  had  not  per- 
formed the  most  essential  duties  of  religion  since  the  days 
of  his  childhood.  For  this  reason,  his  children  before  their 
arrival  at  Emmettsburg  had  paid  very  little  attention  to  the 
practice  of  their  faith,  being  but  slightly  acquainted  with  it* 
important  truths  and  weighty  obligations.  But  when  they 
had  been  more  fully  instructed,  and  had  become  sensible  of 
what  the  Christian  character  required,  they  were  very  de- 
sirous that  their  father,  who  was  now  verging  upon  the  clos» 
of  life,  should  have  the  benefit  of  an  interview  with  Mothei 
Seton.  Several  fruitless  attempts  had  been  made  by  the 
clergy  to  reclaim  him  from  his  indifference ;  but  his  daugh 
t«rs  entertained  the  hope  that  the  persuasive  and  impressive 
manner  of  Mother  Seton  might  produce  the  desired  effect. 
They  were  not  disappointed  in  their  expectations.  Having 
prevailed  upon  him  to  visit  them  at  St.  Joseph's  Valley,  he 
was  introduced  to  Mother  Seton,  whose  deportment,  mien, 
and  conversation,  although  not  ostensibly  directed  to  the 
conversion  of  his  heart  to  God,  exerted  a  magic  influence 
ov,r  him.  He  remarked  to  others,  after  having  been  in  her 


892  THE    LIFE    OF 

company,  that  he  would  willingly  travel  six  hundred  miles 
to  enjoy  a  view  of  Mother  Seton's  eyes,  though  she  were  not 
to  open  her  lips  before  him.  To  herself  he  candidly  ac- 
knowledged that  he  could  no  longer  resist  the  voice  of  his 
conscience,  and  that  immediately  on  his  return  home  he 
would  prepare  himself  to  approach  the  sacraments  and  live 
in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of  his  religion.  Manj 
prayers  and  communions  were  offered  for  him  at  St.  Jo- 
seph's ;  and,  after  having  faithfully  fulfilled  the  promise  which 
he  had  made  to  Mother  Seton,  he  died  in  sentiments  of  the 
most  fervent  piety.  The  impressions  produced  upon  the 
mind  by  Mother  Seton's  manner  were  deep  and  lasting,  and 
followed  her  pupils  into  the  gayest  scenes  of  life,  to  guard 
them  against  the  dangers  of  the  world.  A  remarkible  in- 
stance of  this  was  witnessed  in  a  young  lady  who  had  been 
educated  at  St.  Joseph's.  Having  been  invited  to  an  even- 
ing party,  she  appeared  before  the  company  in  a  very  gay 
costume,  which  she  had  been  urged  by  her  friends  to  wear, 
but  which  did  not  accord  altogether  with  her  own  sense  of 
propriety.  Though  mingling  in  the  pleasures  of  the  seen0, 
around  her,  she  could  not  banish  the  feeling  of  self-reproach. 
The  admonitions  of  her  former  preceptress  rushed  upon  hei 
memory  in  all  their  force.  Though  she  was  surrounded  by 
every  thing  calculated  to  divert  her  thoughts  from  the  seri- 
ous, the  impressive  form  of  that  venerated  mistress  who  had 
so  often  cautioned  her  against  the  vanities  of  the  world 
continually  haunted  her  mind;  it  stood  before  her,  upbraid 
ing  her  with  her  fault ;  and  such  was  the  effect  of  this  reproof 
that  she  retired  from  the  room,  and  exchanged  her  dress  foi 
one  more  becoming  the  modesty  of  a  Christian. 

Mother  Seton  possessed  a  particular  talent  in  accommo- 
dating herself  to  circumstances.  Her  manner,  her  wordi, 
her  actions,  were  just  what  the  occasion  required.  Every 
one  received  from  her  the  proper  degree  of  attention,  nnd  in 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETON.  893 

all  her  relations,  whether  with  the  pupils,  the  sisters,  cr  per- 
sons without,  she  was  governed  by  those  rules  of  propriety 
which  are  the  dictates  of  Christian  wisdom.  On  one  occa- 
sion, when  called  to  the  parlor,  she  found  three  strangers 
waiting  to  see  her, — a  clergyman,  a  fashionable  lady,  and  a 
poor  woman  seeking  charity.  Approaching  first  the  priest 
of  God,  she  knelt  and  asked  his  blessing;  she  then  saluted 
the  lady  in  a  most  graceful  manner,  after  which,  turning  to 
the  beggar,  she  took  her  hand,  spoke  some  words  of  comfort, 
and  promised  her  assistance,  without  appearing,  however,  to 
do  a  favor  or  causing  the  applicant  for  alms  to  feel  that  she 
was  a  dependent. 

But  in  Mother  Seton  the  rarest  abilities  of  mind  were 
blended  with  the  finest  qualities  of  the  heart.  We  have  al- 
ready observed,  in  the  course  of  this  narrative,  the  tender 
and  extraordinary  affection  which  she  entertained  for  her 
children.  Her  estimate  of  a  mother's  duty  was  of  the  high- 
est and  most  comprehensive  nature.  No  toil,  no  sacrifice, 
was  too  great  when  their  happiness  required  it.  Hence  she 
devoted  herself  to  this  object  with  an  ardor  which  nothing 
but  the  most  unbounded  love  of  their  true  welfare  could  in- 
spire. When  they  were  near  her,  she  watched  over  them 
with  the  tenderest  solicitude;  when  absent,  she  followed 
them  in  spirit  and  by  her  letters,  to  caution  them  against 
danger,  to  assist  them  by  her  wise  directions,  but,  above  all, 
to  fix  their  thoughts  upon  the  great  end  of  their  creation. 
Language  seemed  inadequate  to  convey  the  deep  feelings  of 
her  soul  when  she  was  writing  to  her  children,  and  espe- 
cially when  counselling  them  to  pursue  the  path  of  rectitude 
and  salvation  Her  words  were  then  most  powerfully  ex- 
prassive,  identifying  her  offspring  with  herself,  or,  by  the 
repetition  of  those  which  were  most  significant,  she  showed 
how  her  heart  still  lingered  upon  the  object  which  wai 
uppermost  in  her  thoughts  and  affections. 


894  THE    LIFE    OP 

Her  kind  disposition  and  blandness  of  manner  welcomed 
all  to  her  presence.  During  the  hours  of  recreation  she  was 
generally  in  her  room,  engaged  in  some  useful  employment; 
and  at  this  time  many  of  the  young  ladies  and  sisters  would 
gather  around  her,  being  more  delighted  with  the  charm  of 
her  conversation  than  with  any  other  diversion  they  could 
have  enjoyed.  Though  always  occupied,  she  was  always  ac- 
cessible, and  received  her  visitors  with  a  smile  and  a  cor. 
diality  which  placed  them  perfectly  at  their  ease.  "  My  dear 
Mother,"  said  a  sister  who  had  been  obliged  very  frequently 
to  interrupt  her  one  day,  "I  fear  that  I  disturb  you  too 
often."  "Not  at  all,"  she  replied;  "the  sunbeams  are  net 
more  welcome  through  my  windows  than  your  well-known 
step  at  my  door.'*  Toward  those  who  had  befriended  her 
she  always  manifested  the  deepest  gratitude,  and  repaid  tc 
her  utmost  the  favors  which  she  had  received.  An  ungrate- 
ful disposition  she  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  basest  qualities 
that  can  tarnish  the  character  of  a  man,  and  she  guarded 
her  children  in  the  most  forcible  language  to  beware  of  so 
disgraceful  a  failing.  As  the  friend  of  others,  she  was  warm 
in  her  attachments,  yet  actuated  by  the  highest  and  most 
disinterested  motives.  The  sorrows  and  afflictions  of  her 
neighbor  she  felt  as  keenly  as  if  they  were  her  own,  and  ehe 
hastened  to  pour  the  balm  of  consolation  into  the  wounded 
heart.  How  truly  her  friendship  and  her  counsels  were  ap- 
preciated, may  be  gathered  from  the  high  estimate  placed 
upon  her  letters  and  the  privilege  of  corresponding  with  her. 
Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi,  whose  name  we  have  had  frequent  oc 
casion  to  mention  in  this  narration,  and  who  was  a  man  of 
the  most  enlightened  mind  and  solid  virtue,  and  a  particulai 
benefactor  of  Mrs.  Seton,  looked  upon  all  the  letters  received 
from  her  as  so  many  holy  relics,  which  he  referred  to  from 
time  to  time,  and  often  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  to  awaken  the 
remembrance  of  former  blessings,  to  animate  himself  in  tha 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  895 

consideration  of  religious  truth  and  in  the  pursuit  of  the 
great  eternal  end  of  the  Christian.*  Bishop  Cheverus,  in 
acknowledging  the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  her,  in  which  she 
had  informed  him  of  her  severe  illness,  tells  her  that  he  had 
read  it  over  "twenty  times,  with  increasing  emotions  of 
sorrow,  affection,  admiration,  and  real  devotion.  .  .  I  bless 
the  Father  of  mercies  for  the  happy  state  of  your  com- 
munity, for  the  health  restored  to  your  worthy  superior.  To 
him,  to  the  good  sisters,  to  their  happy  pupils,  I  beg  to  be 
remembered  with  affection  and  respect.  Their  prayers  I 
humbly  and  earnestly  request.  I  condole  with  them;  they 
will  with  me.  We  cannot  help  feeling  our  loss,  although 
those  we  love  and  venerate  are  so  great  gainers  by  it.  I  beg 
a  few  lines  when  your  situation  permits  it.  They  will  be 
received  and  preserved  as  a  treasure  to  the  heart  of  him  who 
in  our  dear  Lord  is  truly  devoted  to  you."  August  11, 1818. 
A  few  months  after,  December  18,  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Ma- 
re"chal,  Archbishop  of  Baltimore,  wrote  to  her  as  follows : — 
"Since  my  consecration,  my  dear  Mother,  I  have  received 
many  hundred  letters.  Very  few,  perhaps  none,  have  given 
me  so  much  consolation  as  yours.  Surely  my  flock  ought  to 
pray  for  me :  and  yet  who  does  fulfil  that  great  duty  of  filial 
piety  ?  Imagine  that  many  on  the  feast  of  St.  Ambrose 
(December  7)  have  drank  my  health !  God  bless  this  good 
people :  they  did  it,  I  am  sure,  through  politeness,  nor  am  I 
BO  stern  as  to  condemn  them  entirely.  But  you,  Sisters  of 


*  "Riguar'liuido  io  le  let  tore  tutte  scritte  di  propria  mano  dell*  mia 
renorata  sorella  di  affezione  quali  sacre  Reliquie,  ohe  di  tempo  in  temp* 
richiamo  sotto  i  miei  occhi  (spesso  con  lacrime  di  tenerezza)  a  mia  medi  • 
tazione  religiosa,  di  gratissime  rimembranzo,  e  di  personate  mia  futnra 
e  tern  a  Christiana  aperanza."  (Letter  of  Mr.  Filicchi  to  the  writer.)  Thii 
•xoellent  man,  whose  eminent  social  position  and  generosity  of  character 
were  equalled  only  by  his  practical  piety  and  zeal  for  religion,  died  a  few 
fears  ago  at  Leghorn. 


396  THE    LIFE    Of 

Charity,  how  much  more  enlightened  you  aie !  Continue, 
my  dear  Mother,  to  raise  your  hands  to  heaven,  that  the 
Supreme  Pastor  of  the  Church  may  grant  me  the  light,  the 
fortitude,  and  the  consolation,  that  are  so  necessary  to  me  in 
my  awful  office ;  and  perform  that  duty  of  charity  not  only 
while  you  are  in  this  world  but  also  when  your  body  wil 
be  lying  in  the  wood  and  your  soul  in  heaven."* 

Almost  all  the  young  ladies  who  had  been  educated  in 
her  institution  were  eager  on  their  return  home  to  continue 
by  an  epistolary  correspondence  that  intercourse  which  they 
could  no  longer  personally  enjoy.  On  her  part,  she  did  not 
neglect  the  opportunity  thus  afforded  of  performing  the  duty 
of  real  friendship,  by  administering  the  most  salutary  advice. 
Writing  to  a  young  person  to  whom  she  was  tenderly  at- 
tached, she  says: — "Alas!  when  shall  we  all  meet  again? 
Only  in  our  God  now.  Yet  how  much  sweeter  is  our  friend- 
•hip  in  absence,  with  our  bright  hope  before  us,  than  the 
friendship  which  goes  no  farther  than  the  grave?  Ours 
will  be  so  far,  far  beyond  it !"  The  following  extract  from 
a  letter  to  the  same  person  will  show  how  skilfully  she 
adapted  her  maternal  counsel  to  times  and  circumstances. 
"My  dear  one,  it  is  so  sweet  to  call  you  so;  so  often  I  do  it 
in  my  heart,  and  in  speaking  to  your  dear  ones  here  who 
love  you  so  tenderly!  Now,  this  beautiful  season  of  Ad- 
vent,—  do  try  to  take  its  spirit,  my  friend;  to  think  of  it  as 
the  last.  You  have  so  many  opportunities  to  love  our  Jesus 
in  his  poor — to  make  the  little  Babe  so  many  presents  be- 
fore Christmas  comes.  You  know  in  our  sweet  meditations 
it  says,  now  he  is  our  tender  Babe,  stretching  his  arm?  and 
offering  his  tears  for  us,  by-and-by  our  awful  Judge  I" 

In  writing  to  those  who  were  not  members  of  the  Catho 
lie  Church,  she  embraced  every  occasion  of  introducing  some 

•  Mother  Seton  was  at  this  time  in  a  low  itate  of  health/"' 


MRS.    £     4.     8ETON.  397 

allusion  to  the  paramount  affair  of  salvation,  and  thus  evin- 
cing that  true  regard  for  their  interests  which  a  well-ordered 
friendship  inspires.  In  a  letter  to  one  of  her  former  inti- 
mates she  thus  blends  the  language  of  affection  with  that  of 
Christian  sentiment: — "Never  had  your  poor  friend  one 
thought  of  you  but  love  and  dear  remembrances.  Your  not 
writing  as  often  as  before  often  comes  to  my  mind  with  the 
mixture  of  uneasiness  and  the  uncertainties  of  so  wide  a  dis- 
tance; but  never,  never  with  the  least  diminution  of  affec- 
tion, which  so  far  from  cooling  is  softened  and  endeared  by 
every  thought  of  the  past,  often,  indeed,  by  things  the  most 
indifferent  in  themselves;  and  in  the  true  inconsistency  of  a 
foolish  heart  like  mine,  my  tears  will  often  start  at  the  recol- 
lection of  persons  who  were  noways  connected  with  it  at 
home.  So  you  may  be  sure  those  who  have  so  long  lived  in 
the  very  centre  of  that  poor  heart  retain  their  place  in  full 
possession,  with  this  only  difference,  that  the  look  is  now  all 
for  the  dear  ETERNITY  to  which  I  slip  along  so  gently  and 
almost  imperceptibly,  that,  though  no  evident  change  of  con- 
stitution has  taken  place,  I  feel  the  general  decay  of  poor 
sinking  nature  enough  to  shorten  my  perspective  of  every 
scene  beyond  the  present  moment.  You  may  be  sure  the 
very  possibility  of  seeing  our  friend  is  like  a  foretaste  of 
heaven  to  me ;  and  if  she  is  only  delayed  by  the  fear  of  not 
finding  entrance  in  St.  Joseph's  House,  tell  her  the  front 
do->r,  the  back,  the  side-door  which  will  lead  her  in  the 
jhapel,  and  all  the  windows  up  and  down,  will  open  at  her 
approach." 

The  generosity  of  Mother  Seton's  nature  was  exhibited 
in  her  relations  with  every  class  of  persons.  The  domestics 
•>f  the  institution  found  in  her  one  who  knew  how  to  allevi- 
*te  the  trials  of  their  situation  by  a  true  sympathy  and  kind- 
ness, while  the  poor  possessed  in  her  a  benefactress  whose 
benevolence  was  unbounded  and  never  tired  of  well-dcing 

34 


898  THE    LIFE    OF 

In  the  early  days  of  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood,  circumstance* 
did  not  permit  the  exercise  of  that  munificent  charity  which 
now  distinguishes  that  excellent  society;  but  Mother  Seton 
laid  its  foundations  broad  and  deep  in  the  love  of  the  poor. 
She  sowed  the  good  seed  which  is  now  bearing  fruit  in 
abundance.  Her  heart  was  the  home  of  charity,  while  her 
appeals  to  others  in  behalf  of  suffering  humanity  were  irre- 
sistible. Keturning  from  the  Mountain  church  one  evening 
in  winter,  when  the  weather  was  excessively  cold,  she  passed 
a  miserable  hut,  at  the  door  of  which  stood  four  or  five  little 
children,  almost  perishing  for  the  want  of  food  and  clothing. 
Her  charity  was  at  once  enlisted  for  their  relief.  Early  the 
next  morning  she  entered  the  hall  where  the  young  ladies 
were  engaged  at  study,  and  with  tearful  eyes  she  described 
the  wretchedness  of  those  suffering  members  of  Jesus  Christ. 
She  depicted  their  situation  with  so  much  feeling  that  every 
pupil  made  a  cheerful  offering  of  pocket-money  and  clothing 
for  their  benefit.  Quickly,  too,  was  the  needle  plied  by  many 
busy  little  hands,  and  before  night  Mother  Seton,  accom- 
panied by  two  of  the  sisters,  repaired  to  the  abode  of  misery, 
washed  and  dressed  the  children,  and  administered  to  the 
wants  of  the  parents.  On  her  return  home,  she  did  not  fail 
to  congratulate  her  pupils  on  the  generous  part  they  had 
taken  in  procuring  the  happiness  of  a  poor  family,  adding, 
"Oh,  my  children,  how  sweet  will  be  your  repose  to-night!" 
Full  of  kindness  and  charity  to  her  neighbor,  Mother 
Seton  was  rigid  and  austere  to  herself.  We  have  already 
noticed  the  spirit  of  self-denial  which  she  exhibited  by  the 
mortification  of  her  senses.  The  renunciation  of  self  wae 
plainly  visible  in  the  poverty  of  her  dress,  her  furniture,  and 
other  articles  which  she  used;  in  her  abstemiousness  at 
meals,  and  in  the  severe  observance  of  rules.  She  rose 
genemlly  with  the  community,  at  four  o'clock,  and,  repairing 
to  the  choir,  she  there  knelt  erect,  never  sitting  or  leaning  on 


MRS.    E.    A.    fiETON.  399 

any  thing,  and  remained  in  this  posture  till  after  the  morn- 
ing prayers  and  meditation,  which  lasted  an  hour.  But  her 
chief  aim  was  to  practise  that  interior  abnegation  which  ia 
at  once  the  principle  and  end  of  all  exterior  virtue,  and 
whicli  consists  in  the  crucifixion  of  corrupt  nature  and  its 
subjugation  under  the  dominion  of  faith.  This  is  the  cross 
which  she  resolutely  took  up  after  the  example  of  her  Divine 
Master,  striving  always  to  resist  and  overcome  the  views  and 
desires  of  self,  and  follow  the  suggestions  of  grace.  Nor  did 
she  find  it  an  easy  task  to  curb  her  will  to  the  order  of 
Providence,  to  walk  faithfully  and  with  simplicity  in  the 
path  of  obedience,  and  accept  with  peaceful  resignation  the 
numerous  trials  which  it  presented  Frequent  and  painful 
were  the  struggles  she  had  to  endure  in  combating  the  sug- 
gestions of  her  own  mind  relative  to  the  line  of  conduct 
which  her  sanctification,  the  happiness  of  her  children,  and 
the  welfare  of  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood,  seemed  to  require. 
The  Almighty,  who  visited  her  with  these  interior  troubles 
for  the  purification  of  her  heart  and  the  increase  of  her 
heavenly  reward,  permitted  her  to  experience  an  extraordi- 
nary dryness  in  her  spiritual  duties,  and  to  conceive  an  al- 
most invincible  repugnance  to  the  directions  of  her  superiors. 
She  thus  depicts  her  situation,  in  a  letter  to  a  clergyman : — 
"  Writing  on  a  table  opposite  the  door  of  the  chapel,  looking 
at  the  tabernacle,  the  soul  appeals  to  Him,  if  this  is  not  a 
daily  martyrdom.  I  love  and  live,  and  love  and  live  in  a 
state  of  separation  indescribable.  My  being  and  existence, 
it  is  true,  are  real,  because  I  meditate,  pray,  commune,  con- 
duct the  community,  &c.,  and  all  this  with  regularity,  resig- 
nation, and  singleness  of  heart;  but  yet  this  is  not  I;  it 
is  a  sort  of  machinery  no  doubt  acceptable  to  the  compas- 
sionate Father;  but  it  is  a  different  being  from  that  in 
which  the  soul  acts.  In  meditation,  prayer,  communion,  I 
find  no  sod;  in  the  beings  around  me,  dearly  as  I  love 


400  THE    LIFE    0V 

them,  I  fiud  no  soul;  in  that  tabernacle  I  know  he  is,  but 
I  see  not.  feel  not;  a  thousand  deaths  might  hang  over  me 
to  compel  me  to  deny  his  presence  there,  and  I  would  em- 
brace them  all  rather  than  deny  it  an  instant;  yet  it  seemt 
that  He  is  not  there  for  me;  and  yesterday,  while  for  a  few 
moments  I  felt  his  presence,  it  was  only  to  make  me  know 
that  hell  was  gaping  under  me  and  how  awful  his  judgment 
would  be."  On  another  occasion  she  represents  herself  re- 
peating, "  I  am  atom !  you  are  God !  misery  all  my  plea ! 
so  few  saved!  If  we  are  lost,  are  you  less  justified?  the 
patience  so  long  waiting,  less  adorable  ?  And  the  soul,  bury- 
ing itself  in  the  chaos  of  mystery,  always  rested  in  stupidity 
within;  but  without  played  with  children,  amused  with  the 
sisters,  yielding  to  all  minutiae,  attentive  to  all  necessities, 
with  the  liberty  with  which  a  philosopher  suffered  and  en- 
dured, lending  the  machine  for  the  beauty  of  order ;  not  one 
spark  of  grace  can  the  soul  discern  in  it  all,  but  rather  a 
continuation  of  the  original  fault,  of  desire  to  do,  to  be  loved, 
to  please!  and,  so  far  from  the  simplicity  of  grace  which 
would  turn  every  instant  to  gold,  it  felt  ashamed  when  re- 
turned to  the  tabernacle,  as  if  it  had  played  the  fool,  or  acted 
like  those  women  who  try  to  please  company  and  show  all 
their  ill-humors  at  home.  .  .  .  Yet  it  might  be  a  grace,  for  as 
often  he  saw  it  was  no  more  in  my  choice  to  hinder  these 
evaporations  than  to  stop  the  giddiness  of  my  head  in  a  fever; 
and  they  (the  community)  are  so  loving,  so  fixed  on  Mother's 
every  look,  clouds  or  sunshine,  so  depending,  sometimes  1 
would  shudder  at  the  danger  of  such  a  situation,  if  it  was 
not  clear  as  light  that  it  is  a  part  of  the  materials  he  takes 
for  his  work;  and  so  little  did  he  prepare  the  composition 
that  he  knows,  if  nature  was  listened  to,  I  would  take  a  blis- 
ter, a  scourging,  any  bodily  pain,  with  a  real  delight,  rather 
than  speak  to  a  human  being — that  heavy  sloth  which,  hating 
exertion,  would  be  willing  to  be  an  animal  and  die  like  • 


MRS.   E.    A.    8KTON.  401 

brute  in  unconsciousness !  Oh,  my  Father,  all  in  my  power 
is  to  abandon  and  adore.  How  good  he  is  to  let  me  do  that  I" 
In  this  perplexing  state,  the  thought  would  often  occur  to 
her  that  she  was  another  Jonas,  who  ought  to  be  cast  out 
for  the  safety  of  those  around  her.  At  one  time,  tortured 
with  a  sense  of  her  responsibility  in  the  station  she  occupied, 
shs  would  endeavor  to  devise  some  means  of  escaping  from 
it;  at  another,  fearful  lest  the  work  of  God  snould  fail 
through  her  fault,  she  would  resolve  to  bear  up  against  every 
difficulty.  Thus  was  her  mind  harassed  by  alternate  and 
opposite  reflections,  which  she  forcibly  and  beautifully  de- 
scribes in  the  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  a  priest.  "I 
see  myself  now  in  the  soul  as  once  in  the  body  fifteen  years 
ago,  when  two  maladies  at  once  rendered  all  the  efforts  of 
physicians  fruitless.  Whatever  they  attempted  to  do  for  the 
relief  of  one  complaint  was  sure  to  increase  the  other.  My 
father,  who  was  himself  an  eminent  physician,  sent  all  away, 
and  insisted  only  on  continued  use  of  the  warm  bath,  which 
really  cured  me ;  and  no  doubt  you  will  spiritually  do  as  he 
did  naturally,  and  insist  on  the  piscina  of  penance,  though 
now  for  the  soul,  as  then  for  the  body,  it  is  hard  to  get  iu 
and  out."  The  remedy  to  which  Mother  Seton  here  alludes 
was  not  unprofitably  applied.  The  sacraments  were  the  sup- 
port of  her  weakness,  and  a  source  of  heavenly  light  amid 
these  passing  clouds,  inspiring  her  with  that  humble  submis- 
sion to  the  dispensations  of  Providence  which  brings  peace 
and  comfort  to  the  heart.  "It  is  not  the  soul  that  is  guilty 
of  all  this,"  she  would  say  in  the  midst  of  her  sufferings; 
"the  evil  spirit  is  most  active,  it  is  true,  but  the  good  :ne 
aits  in  anguish  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  looking  over  all  this 
desolation,  adoring,  subjecting,  abandoning  all  to  him,  seeing 
only  him,  annihilating  itself  and  all  creatures  before  him, 
laying  amen  to  the  resounding  alleluias,  and  willing  any  mo* 
34  »  2  A 


402  THE    LIFE    Of 

ment  to  go  into  tell  itself,  rather  than  add  one  more  offence 
to  the  mountain  it  has  laid  already  upon  him." 

The  interior  aridity  which  thus  desolated  her  soul  was 
of  little  moment  compared  with  the  serious  temptations  she 
experienced  against  the  line  of  obedience.  Such  was  the 
confusion  that  at  times  clouded  her  mind  on  this  point, 
arising  partly  from  an  inexpressible  aversion  for  the  direc- 
tions of  her  immediate  superior,  and  partly  from  the  diffi- 
culties attending  the  organization  of  her  infant  community, 
that  it  required  a  most  powerful  grace  from  above  to  keep 
her  in  the  path  of  duty.  However  insupportable  such  a 
state  must  have  been  for  one  who  was  accustomed  to  be 
ruled  by  no  other  sentiment  than  love,  and  to  be  drawn  by 
the  ties  of  divine  charity  to  every  living  being,  Mother  Seton 
bore  it  with  an  humble  submission  to  the  order  of  Provi- 
dence, as  the  cross  to  be  shared  with  her  heavenly  Master, 
and  destined  by  him  to  purify  her  heart,  to  break  down  that 
self  which  is  the  great  obstacle  to  his  perfect  dominion  in 
the  soul.  While  difficulties  and  contradictions  without,  and 
disgust  and  torpor  within,  threatened  to  overwhelm  her 
spirit,  she  rose  upon  the  wings  of  faith  to  consider  the  glo- 
rious end  of  this  passing  tribulation.  "  I  am  sick,  but  not 
dying;  troubled  on  every  side,  but  not  distressed;  per- 
plexed, but  not  despairing ;  afflicted,  but  not  forsaken ;  cast 
down,  but  not  destroyed;  knowing  the  affliction  of  this  life 
is  but  for  a  moment,  while  the  glory  in  the  life  to  come  will 
be  eternal."  How  she  struggled  to  obtain  the  victory  in 
this  conflict  between  nature  and  grace,  may  be  judged  from 
some  of  her  letters  to  her  clerical  friends.  "  I  have  had  a 
great  many  very  hard  trials  since  you  were  here,"  she  writes 
to  Archbishop  Carroll,  "but  you  of  course  will  congratulate 
me  on  them,  as  this  fire  of  tribulation  is  no  doubt  meant  to 
consume  the  many  imperfections  and  bad  dispositions  out 
Lord  finds  m  me.  Indeed,  it  has  at  times  burnt  so  deep. 


MRS.   E.   A.    8 ETON.  408 

that  the  anguish  could  not  be  concealed ;  but  by  degrees 
custom  reconciles  pain  itself,  and  I  determine,  dry  and  hard 
as  my  daily  bread  is,  to  take  it  with  as  good  a  grace  as  pos- 
sible. When  I  carry  it  before  our  Lord  sometimes,  h« 
makes  me  laugh  at  myself,  and  asks  me  what  other  kind  1 
wouid  choose  in  the  valley  of  tears  than  that  which  himself 
and  all  his  followers  made  use  of."  Strongly  pressed  by 
temptations  against  obedience,  she  was  one  day  ascending 
the  mountain  early  in  the  morning,  and  her  little  dog  tried 
to  follow  her.  "To  drive  him  back,  as  he  resisted  my  com- 
mand," she  writes,  "  I  took  a  stick  to  threaten.  What  did 
the  little  animal  but  crouch  under  the  stick  and  lick  the  end 
of  it  ?  The  stick  not  moving,  he  drew  a  little  nearer  and 
nearer,  till  he  reached  the  feet  of  his  mistress,  which  he 
licked  with  a  transport  of  joy  and  affection.  The  poor  mistress 
was  so  touched  by  the  lesson,  she  threw  down  the  stick,  took 
the  faithful  creature  in  her  arms,  covered  it  with  kisses  and 
the  sweetest  tears  she  had  shed  for  many  weeks.  '  Yes,  0 
Adored,'  she  said, '  I  too  will  kiss  the  stick  which  is  lifted  to 
crush  me,  will  wind  round  the  feet  which  would  trample  up- 
on me;'  and,  opening  my  prayer-book,  the  first  lines  I  met 
were  the  resolutions  of  a  soul  determining  on  a  total  aban- 
donment, and  saying,  among  other  things,  '  I  will  obey  the 
will  of  those  who  are  the  most  distasteful  and  displeasing  to 
me,  and  put  myself  under  the  feet  of  everybody.' "  The 
happy  fruits  of  this  self-abnegation  were  ever  present  to  her 
mind,  as  incentives  to  the  practice  of  obedience.  "In  the 
hour  of  manifestation,"  she  says  to  her  former  director, 
"  when  all  this  cross-working  will  be  explained,  we  will  find 
that  in  this  period  of  our  poor  life  we  are  most  ripe  for  the 
business  for  which  we  were  sent.  While  the  ploughers  go 
over  us,  then  we  are  safe.  No  fears  of  pleasing  ourselves,  no 
danger  of  mistaking  God's  will.  No ;  if  I  thought  that  by 
investigation  and  an  appeal  to  superior  authority  I  would 


404  THE    LIFE    Ot 

be  to-morrow  released  from  this  cloud  of  darkness,  yet  1 
woul  I  not  take  one  step.  And  you,  my  dear  master  and 
captain  in  the  way  of  the  cross,  you  know  that  my  only  safe 
way  (I  speak  for  salvation)  is  to  remain  quite  still  with 
Magdalen.  You  well  know  that  He  who  works  my  fate  has 
no  need  of  any  other  help  from  me  but  a  good  will  to  do  his 
will  and  an  entire  abandonment  to  his  good  providence.  Let 
them  plough,  let  them  grind:  so  much  the  better;  the  grain 
will  be  the  sooner  prepared  for  its  owner ;  whereas,  should 
I  step  forward  and  take  my  own  cause  in  hand,  the  Father 
of  the  widow  and  the  orphan  would  say  that  I  distrust  him. 
.  .  .  Shall  we  make  schemes  and  plans  of  human  happiness, 
which  must  be  so  uncertain  in  obtaining,  and  if  obtained — 
hush — death  ! — eternity  ! — Oh,  my  father,  sursum  corda — 
we  know  better  than  to  be  cheated  by  such  attractions.  No; 
we  will  offer  the  hourly  sacrifice,  and  drink  our  cup  to  the 
last  drop,  and  we  when  least  expecting  it  will  enter  into  our 
rest." 

Thus  did  the  severe  trials  which  Mother  Seton  had  to 
endure  become  a  most  salutary  discipline  to  disengage  her 
heart  from  earthly  objects  and  fix  it  on  those  which  are 
eternal.  They  produced  in  her  soul  a  total  indifference  to 
what  was  passing  here  below,  turning  all  the  energies  of  her 
being  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  divine  will.  We  cannot 
give  a  better  idea  of  this  holy  disposition  which  she  had  ac- 
quired than  in  her  own  expressive  language.  "Alone  on 
a  rock  this  afternoon,  surrounded  by  the  most  beautiful 
scenery,  adoring  and  praising  Him  for  his  magnificence  and 
glory,  the  heavy  eye  could  find  no  delight ;  the  soul  cried 
out,  0  God!  0  God!  give  yourself.  What  is  all  the  rest? 
A  silent  voice  of  love  answered,  I  am  yours.  Then,  dearest 
lord!  keep  me  as  I  am  while  I  live;  for  this  is  true  con- 
tent,— to  hope  for  nothing,  to  desire  nothing,  expect  nothingj 
frar  nothing.  Death1  Eternity!  Oh,  how  small  are  all 


MRS.    B.    A.    SETON.  405 

objects  of  busy,  striving,  restless,  blind,  mistaken  beings, 
when  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  these  two  prospects  are  viewed  I" 
The  divine  will  was  the  standard  by  which  she  estimated  all 
things,  the  rule  which  governed  her  actions,  the  end  of  all 
her  aspirations.  When,  before  the  final  organization  of  the 
sisterhood,  her  prospects  for  the  welfare  of  herself  and  her 
children  became  involved  in  a  gloomy  uncertainty,  she  wrote 
to  a  friend : — "  Every  thing  here  is  again  suspended,  and  I  am 
casting  about  to  prepare  for  beginning  the  world  again.  .  .  . 
But  we  will  be  in  every  case  under  the  refuge  of  the  Most 
High;  and  glad  indeed  would  I  be  if  I  could  inspire  your 
dear  soul  with  as  much  indifference  as  is  in  mine,  provided 
His  adorable  will  be  done  during  the  few  remaining  days  of 
my  tiresome  journey,  which,  being  made  with  so  many  tears 
and  sown  so  thick  with  crosses,  will  certainly  be  concluded 
with  joy  and  crowned  with  eternal  rest.  Look  up :  the  high 
est  there  were  the  lowest  here,  and  coveted  most  the  poverty 
and  humility  which  accompanied  their  and  our  Master 
every  step  of  his  suffering  life.  But  I  do  not  care  for  you, 
but  for  her  in  whom  you  suffer  much  more  than  yourself. 
If  our  Lord  suffered  us  to  bear  our  misery  alone,  without 
affecting  the  dearest  part  of  ourselves,  we  would  not  suffer 
like  himself,  whose  whole  suffering  was  for  us  and  the  inju- 
ries endured  by  his  eternal  Father.  Now,  my  friend,  we  are 
in  the  true  and  sure  way  of  salvation  for  that  long,  long 
eternity  before  us ;  if  only  we  keep  courage  we  will  go  to 
heaven  on  horseback,  instead  of  idling  and  creeping  along. 
Our  Master  is  too  good  to  us — that  is  all  I  can  say — if  we 
even  end  our  lives  as  he  lived,  without  a  place  to  lay  his 
head.  Oh  my  mouth  waters  when  I  think  of  that,  if  he 
ever  grant  me  so  great  a  favor.  But  let  all  be  in  the  order 
of  his  providence,  neither  asking  nor  refusing.  Blessed,  a 
thousand  million  times,  his  own  beloved  and  blessed  name 
forever !"  Such  was  the  ascendency  of  the  divine  will  in  her 


466  THE    LIFE    OF 

heart  that  in  speaking  or  writing  her  usual  exclamation  waa, 
*'  May  the  will  of  God  be  accomplished  and  exalted  forever !" 
Language  on  these  occasions  seemed  inadequate  for  the  ex- 
pression of  her  feelings,  and  hence  her  significant  manner 
of  employing  the  numerals  in  order  to  give  utterance,  as  far 
is  possible,  to  the  fervor  of  her  soul.  Nor  did  she  submit 
to  the  divine  will  only  under  those  circumstances  which  de- 
manded but  little  sacrifice.  She  understood  well  that  con. 
formity  to  the  will  of  God  cannot  be  true  and  sincere  if  it 
does  not  embrace  the  trials  as  well  as  the  consolations  which 
he  dispenses.  She  was  not  one  of  those  who  are  willing  to 
follow  our  Divine  Saviour  to  the  breaking  of  bread  but  re- 
fuse to  accompany  him  to  Calvary.  He  traced  the  way  of 
the  cross,  by  his  instructions  and  example,  as  the  path  for 
his  disciples  and  the  only  test  of  a  true  service  to  God.  For 
this  reason,  Mother  Seton  looked  upon  Calvary  as  the  ren- 
dezvous of  all  true  Christians. 

On  a  certain  occasion,  when  strongly  tempted  to  leave  her 
establishment  at  Emmettsburg,  she  took  up  a  spiritual  book; 
and  the  first  passage  that  met  her  eye  was  the  narration  of 
that  incident  recorded  of  St.  Peter,  that,  on  the  breaking 
Dut  of  the  persecution  against  the  Christians  under  Nero, 
his  disciples  urged  him  to  withdraw  for  a  while  from  Home. 
Through  condescension  to  their  wishes,  he  made  his  escape 
by  night ;  but,  on  going  out  from  the  city,  he  met  Jesua 
Christ,  or  what  in  a  vision  appeared  in  his  form,  and  he 
askea  him,  "Lord,  whither  art  thou  going?"  Christ  an- 
swered, "  I  am  going  to  Rome  to  be  crucified  again."  St 
Peter  at  once  retraced  his  steps,  and  remained  in  the  city 
until  he  suffered  martyrdom.  Mother  Seton  was  struck 
rith  the  applicability  of  this  circumstance  to  her  own  situa- 
tion, and  she  determined  to  bear  her  cross  with  constancy, 
in  the  path  marked  out  to  her  by  Divine  Providence. 
Poverty  and  tribulation  had  nothing  repulsive  for  her;  she 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  407 

considered  them  as  the  most  abundant  sources  of  heavenly 
blessing  and  among  the  best  tokens  of  being  favored  by 
the  Almighty.  She  even  wished  that  the  troubles  of  this 
life  should  be  the  portion  and  inheritance  of  her  children. 
Speaking  to  a  friend  of  the  trials  that  God  had  sent  her. 
she  says,  "For  that  I  bless  him  most  of  all.  Where  would 
I  be  now  if  he  had  not  scourged  and  bound  me?  And  in 
his  infinite  goodness  he  may  do  the  same  for  you.  What 
iLdtfcer  by  whose  hands  ?  If  I  get  to  his  kingdom,  what 
matter  how?  Faith;  faith,  my  dear  friend!  the  Captain 
marches  on.  Oh,  yes,  we  follow,  we  follow!"  All  the  af- 
flictions that  befell  her, — all  the  crosses  of  life,  from  whatever 
source  they  came, — she  accepted  not  only  with  resignation, 
but  even  with  joy,  as  the  surest  means  of  her  true  hap- 
piness. One  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  her  piety  was 
the  love  of  the  cross.  She  meditated  habitually  on  thr 
sufferings  of  Christ,  to  which  she  had  a  particular  devotion, 
frequently  reading  the  history  of  his  sacred  passion,  and 
always  on  her  knees.  For  the  same  reason  she  chose  for 
her  special  patrons  those  saints  who  were  most  distinguished 
for  their  spirit  of  penance,  as  St.  Augustin  and  St.  Mary 
Magdalen. 

The  renunciation  of  self  which  obedience  required  af- 
forded her,  as  we  have  seen,  most  signal  occasions  of  suffer 
ing  for  God's  sake,  while  the  meekness  and  prudence  of  true 
charity,  amid  contradictions  and  opposition,  equally  dis- 
played the  triumphs  of  her  patient  and  silent  endurance. 
She  had  the  greatest  delicacy  to  complain  of  others,  and 
rather  accused  herself  when  the  most  tried,  reproaching  her- 
self even  with  involuntary  feelings  of  dislike.  Fully  sensible 
of  the  obligations  imposed  by  the  precept,  "Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  she  was  ever  careful  to  cherish  in 
her  heart  the  purest  sentiments  of  charity.  She  asked  her- 
pelf,  continually,  "  Am  I  in  full  charity  with  all  ?" 


408  THE  LIFE  or 

The  same  disposition  to  imitate  the  exa.  xple  of  her  cruoi 
fied  Master  inspired  her  with  a  most  sincere  and  profound 
humility,  Habitually  and  deeply  impressed  with  the  truth 
that  God  despises  the  proud  and  regards  the  humble  and 
daman ds  a  strict  account  of  graces  bestowed,  she  feared  for 
herself,  lest  she  might  be  found  wanting  in  his  sight,  while 
at  the  same  time  she  entertained  the  most  compassionate  re- 
gard for  the  ignorant  and  blind  sinner.  So  convinced  waa 
she  of  her  being  but  nothingness  and  sin  before  God,  that 
she  was  astonished  and  shocked  when  praised  by  others,  and 
felt  distressed  in  being  obliged,  as  superior  of  the  community, 
to  instruct,  direct,  or  reprove  those  under  her  charge. 
She  was  fully  impressed  with  the  belief  that  her  efforts  would 
only  spoil  the  work  intrusted  to  her,  and  she  threw  herself 
entirely  upon  the  divine  protection,  that  God  would  take  it 
in  hand  and  give  it  a  favorable  issue.  In  the  following  pas- 
sage from  one  of  her  letters  to  a  clergyman,  she  depicts  in  a 
lifelike  manner  her  spirit  of  humility.  "  Your  dear  Bour- 
daloue  is  always  the  fountain  of  my  Sunday  instructions,  be- 
cause I  can  draw  so  many  little  streams  to  apply  direct  to 
our  own  wants.  Poor,  poor  pauverina  !*  obliged  to  preach, 
and  against  the  commands  of  St.  Paul !  And  if  you  knew 
only  one-half  my  reluctance  to  give  an  instruction  or  a  cate- 
chism, (formerly  the  heart's  delight,)  it  seems  to  me  even 
yourself  would  be  tempted  to  turn  away  with  disgust  from 
the  ungrateful  culprit ;  but  the  Dearest  says,  '  You  shall,  you 
must,  only  because  I  will  it ;  trust  your  weak  breast  and 
turning  head  to  me;  I  will  do  all.  And  Sam  is  so  cruel, 
whenever  there  is  an  evident  success,  he  pushes  and  says, 
'  See  how  they  are  affected !  how  silent  and  attentive !  what 
respect !  what  look  of  love !'  and  tries  to  make  distractions  in 

*  Pauverina  signifies  poor  little  woman, — an  epithet  which  her  friend 
Mr.  Bubade  s  >metime8  applied  to  her,  and  which  she  occasionally  used 
herself. 


MRS.    E.    A.    6ETON.  409 

every  way.  The  poor,  poor  soul  don't  even  look  toward 
him,  but  keeps  direct  forward  with  our  Dearest,  but  with 
such  a  heavy,  heavy  heart  at  this  vile  mixture.  So,  in  the 
refectory  sometimes,  the  tears  start  and  the  weakness  of  a 
baby  comes  over  me ;  but  our  Dearest  again  says, '  Look  up ; 
if  you  had  your  little  morsel  alone,  of  another  quality,  no 
paina  of  body  or  reluctance  to  eat,  what  part  would  I  have 
in  youi  meal  ?  But  here  is  your  place :  to  keep  order, 
direct  the  reader,  give  example,  and  eating  cheerfully  the 
little  you  can  take,  in  the  spirit  of  love,  as  if  before  my 
tabernacle.  I  will  do  the  rest.  Abandon  all.'  Abandon 
all !  All  is  abandoned.  But,  pray,  pray  for  your  poor  one 
continually." 

By  the  perpetual  warfare  which  Mother  Seton  carried  on 
against  corrupt  nature,  her  thoughts  and  desires  became  alto- 
gether detached  from  the  things  of  this  life  and  centred  on 
those  of  the  next.  That  faith  which  the  apostle  defines  to 
be  "  the  substance  of  things  to  be  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of 
things  which  appear  not,"*  was  the  eminent  disposition  of 
her  soul ;  and  truly  may  we  apply  to  her  the  language  which 
our  Divine  Saviour  addressed  to  the  Canaanite  in  the  gospel, 
"  0  woman,  great  is  thy  faith  !"•}•  Eternity  was  continually 
before  her  eyes,  ever  on  her  lips,  and  still  more  in  her  heart. 
•'Eternity!"  she  writes  to  a  friend,  "oh,  how  near  it  often 
seems  to  me !  Think  of  it  when  you  are  hard  pushed.  How 
long  will  be  that  day  without  a  night,  or  that  night  without 
a  day!  May  we  praise  and  bless  and  adore  forever!'' 
Filled  with  the  thought  of  the  divine  greatness  and  immen- 
sity, she  was  equally  struck  with  the  nothingness  of  all  that 
passes  here  below.  Space  and  time  were  forgotten.  "What 
is  distance  or  separation,"  she  wrote  to  an  absent  friend, 
"when  our  soul,  plunged  in  the  ocean  of  infinity,  sees  all  in 


•  Heb.  xL  1.  f  M»tL  xv.  28. 

U 


410  THE    LIFE    Of 

his  own  bosom?  There  is  no  Europe  or  America  there. 
Our  God  and  our  all !"  So  utterly  insignificant  did  all  hu- 
man things  appear  to  her  when  viewed  in  the  immensity  of 
God  and  eternity,  that  she  manifested  no  vain  curiosity  in 
regard  to  matters  of  a  secular  nature.  She  never  made  any 
inquiries  relative  to  political  events.  Even  in  the  good 
works  of  the  servants  of  God  she  could  see  nothing  worthy 
of  regard  compared  with  the  claims  of  infinite  perfection 
God  alone  was  great.  "  He  is  all;"  "God  is  all;"  such  were 
her  habitual  expressions.  All  things  were  weighed  by  hei 
according  to  the  standard  of  faith.  Crosses  and  afflictions, 
prosperity  and  adversity,  health  and  sickness,  life,  death, 
worldly  prospects,  every  thing,  was  viewed  in  that  bright 
mirror  of  religious  truth.  "  I  see  nothing  in  this  world  but 
the  blue  sky  and  our  altars;  all  the  rest  is  so  plainly  not  to 
be  looked  at.  We  talk  now  all  day  long  of  my  death,  and 
how  it  will  be,  just  like  the  rest  of  the  housework.  What 
is  it  else?  What  come  in  the  world  for?  Why  in  it  so 
long,  but  this  last,  great,  eternal  end?  It  seems  to  me  so 
simple,  when  I  look  up  to  the  crucifix.  Coffin,  patches, 
grave;  what  a  life,  indeed!"  She  seemed  to  feel  intensely 
the  holy  desire  expressed  by  the  apostle,  "to  be  dissolved 
and  to  be  with  Christ."  She  thus  writes  to  a  priest  the  year 
before  her  death : — "  Oh,  my  father,  friend !  could  I  hear  my 
last  stage  of  cough  and  feel  my  last  stage  of  pain  in  the 
tearing  away  my  prison-walls,  how  would  I  bear  my  joy? 
Thought  of  going  home,  called  and  by  His  will !  What  a 
transport!  But,  they  say,  don't  you  fear  to  die?  Such  a 
sinner  must  fear;  but  I  fear  much  more  to  live,  and  know,  at 
I  do,  that  every  evening-examen  finds  my  account  but 
lengthened  and  enlarged.  I  don't  fear  death  half  as  muct 
as  my  hateful,  vile  self."  Heaven  she  looked  upon  as  the 
true  home  of  herself  and  all  faithful  servants  of  God;  and 
•he  was  in  the  habit  of  alluding  to  the  departure  of  piou* 


MRS.    B.   A.    SETON.  411 

soula  from  this  world  as  to  their  passage  home.  Thia 
thought  she  constantly  made  use  of  to  sweeten  the  cup  of 
affliction  and  to  animate  herself  under  the  pressure  of  earthly 
sufferings.  "We  must  often,"  she  said,  "draw  the  com- 
parison of  time  and  eternity.  That  is  the  remedy  for  all  our 
trouble.  Oh,  my  friend,  how  small  will  the  present  moment 
ippear  when  we  enter  that  great  ocean !  How  much  we  will 
ihen  wish  we  had  doubled  our  penances  and  sufferings  while 
that  moment  lasted !  How  we  will  laugh  when  we  look  be- 
hind at  the  troubles  we  have  stopped  at,  which  will  then  ap- 
pear in  their  true  light !  and  that  bright  and  glorious  cross 
which  we  now  drag  along  through  the  mud  and  dirt, — how 
beautiful  and  lovely  will  it  appear  when  we  shall  find  it 
opens  the  door  of  our  eternal  happiness  for  us !  My  dear 
friend,  follow  on  with  courage;  you  do  not  suffer  alone,  you 
well  know;  there  is  but  one  place  of  true  rendezvous  for 
true  souls."  So  deeply  was  she  impressed  with  the  sanctity 
of  God,  and  the  necessity  of  acting  with  the  purest  inten- 
tions in  order  to  offer  him  a  worthy  service,  that  she  strove 
continually  to  perfect  her  dispositions  and  repair  the  slight- 
est faults,  lamenting  these  more  earnestly  in  the  divine  pre- 
sence than  common  souls  do  the  most  serious  transgressions. 
This  devotedness  to  God  and  his  honor  caused  her  to  feel 
most  keenly  the  obstacles  so  often  thrown  in  the  way  of  di- 
vine grace.  Speaking  of  a  lady  in  whom  she  observed  diffi- 
culties of  this  kind,  which  prevented  her  from  entering  the 
Catholic  Church,  she  says: — "To  pray  is  all  I  see.  She 
kept  my  heart  so  well  under  the  press,  showing  all  her  oppo- 
sitions to  the  reign  of  our  Jesus,  that  I  spent  truly  a  day  of 
tears  and  interior  cry  to  Him,  to  see  how  they  bind  his 
blessed  hands,  pervert  his  word,  and  yet  hold  up  the  head  in 
boast  that  they  are  true  Christians."  The  same  idea  of  the 
divine  sanctity  inspired  her  with  an  extraordinary  love  of 
holy  virginity,  and  made  her  almost  regret  that  she  had 


412  THE    LIFE    OF 

been  a  mother.  The  virginal  character  in  those  of  her  sex, 
M  that  of  priest  in  men,  was  a  special  object  of  her  v<>nera 
tion. 

The  mysteries  of  religion,  however  impenetrable  to  our 
feeble  intellect,  were  the  objects  of  her  strong  and  unshaken 
belief,  because  it  was  enough  for  her  to  know  that  God  had 
revealed  them.  Accepting  with  the  most  humble  submission 
from  his  Church  the  truths  which  it  proposed  to  her  venera- 
tion, she  did  not  allow  her  mind  to  be  disturbed  by  vain 
speculation  on  points  that  do  not  belong  to  the  faith.  She 
was  once  appointed  by  her  superior  to  instruct  a  young  lady 
whose  mind  was  somewhat  tinctured  with  infidelity,  and  who 
started  useless  questions  on  the  subject  of  original  sin,  the 
incarnation,  &c.  Mother  Seton,  while  she  endeavored  with 
all  humility  to  enlighten  her  on  these  points,  excited  her  as- 
tonishment when  she  remarked  to  her  that  she  herself  waa 
"only  an  adorer  of  the  mystery  of  the  Church,  the  only  ark 
in  the  world."  As  to  heathens,  savages,  sects,  and  the  like, 
they  were  "only  in  her  heart  for  prayer,  but  never  in  her 
brain  for  what  became  of  them;"  or,  as  she  added,  "to 
trouble  my  faith  in  his  wisdom  and  mercy,  the  Father,  the 
most  tender  Father  of  all;  my  immense  God;  I  his  atom." 

She  could  never  sufficiently  express  her  gratitude  to  God 
for  having  been  made  a  child  of  the  true  Church  and  for 
the  graces  which  flowed  from  this  first  blessing.  She  once 
observed  to  a  relative,  after  a  night  of  watching,  "  How 
many  times  did  rapturous  joy  and  adoration  fill  the  whole 
soul  of  thanksgiving  that  I  am  permitted  to  dwell  in  thia 
divine  region  of  superstition,  as  the  Englishman  calls  it — 
to  be  a  Catholic !  Heavenly  mercy !  I  would  be  trampled 
on  by  the  whole  world!"  On  another  occasion — the  an- 
niversary of  the  day  on  which  her  soul  had  passed  through 
*  violent  struggle  in  its  yearnings  after  truth — she  wrote 
to  Mr.  Brute" :— "  How,  my  God '  0  God !  Immense  God  1 


MRS.   X.    A.    SETON.  413 

will  your  atom  ever  forget  this  Epiphany,  1815?  The  gra- 
titude of  a  thousand  years'  penance  would  be  little  after  it 
My  Jesus— our  Jesus — my  God — 0  God — your  lifted  cha- 
lice alone  can  thank !  Oh,  his  kingdom — poor  souls  nncon- 
Bcious ! — there  the  point  of  points  !" 

By  the  spirit  of  faith  Mother  Seton  was  led  to  resign 
herself  continually  into  the  hands  of  God,  to  whose  all-wise 
and  fatherly  protection  she  committed  the  issue  of  every 
affair.  Nothing  could  disturb  the  inward  peace  which  she 
enjoyed  by  this  abandonment  of  herself  to  Divine  Provi- 
dence. It  was  her  consolation  at  all  times,  amid  the  uncer- 
tainties of  life  and  the  apprehensions  which  they  beget,  to  re- 
flect simply  that  God  is  God,  and  to  view  God  in  all  things. 
These  sentiments  were  frequently  expressed  in  her  letters, 
and  they  show  that  in  the  exalted  idea  which  she  enter- 
tained of  his  perfections,  his  wisdom,  his  mercy,  his  good- 
ness, she  found  a  solution  for  all  the  difficulties  and  a  balm 
for  all  the  sufferings  of  life.  By  this  constant  union  with 
God  and  confidence  in  his  paternal  care,  her  soul  was  firmly 
established  in  peace,  and  she  displayed  a  remarkable  equa- 
nimity, never  worried  or  troubled  by  passing  incidents.  The 
same  reliance  upon  God  caused  her  to  seek  his  aid  not  only 
under  trials  and  temptations,  but  also  for  the  more  enlight- 
ened discharge  of  the  duties  which  she  had  to  perform.  It 
was  her  custom,  when  she  met  with  any  difficulty  in  the  les- 
sons that  she  was  preparing  for  the  class-room,  to  retire  before 
the  Blessed  Sacrament,  to  implore  the  assistance  of  Him  who 
is  the  fountain-head  of  all  true  wisdom.  Her  prayers  OB 
these  occasions  were  not  in  vain. 

Such  was  the  ardor  of  Mother  Seton's  faith  that  it  shone 
forth  with  peculiar  effect  in  the  exercise  of  prayer  and  in 
approaching  the  sacraments.  Among  her  favorite  devotions 
•were  the  prayers  of  St.  Bridget,  the  Te  Deum  after  mass, 
the  Magnificat,  the  Apostles'  Creed,  the  Psalms,  and  the 
35* 


414  THE    LIFE    OF 

Benedicite  or  Canticle  of  the  Three  Children.  When  she  per 
formed  these  devotions  aloud,  the  fervor  of  her  soul  became 
visible  in  her  countenance.  Her  whole  face  was  lit  up  with 
animation,  and  the  ruddy  glow  of  her  features  evidenced  the 
burning  piety  within.  In  hearing  the  instructions  or  assist 
ing  at  the  services  of  the  Church,  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  the 
Leavens  above  were  opened  and  God  himself  was  exercising 
this  ministry  in  person.  When  reciting  the  words  of  inspi- 
ration, she  appeared  to  be  almost  inspired  herself,  the  lan- 
guage of  Holy  Scripture  arresting  all  the  powers  of  her  soul, 
as  if  she  heard  it  breathed  forth  from  the  lips  of  a  Moses,  a 
David,  an  Isaias,  or  a  Jeremias.  But  the  vividness  of  hei 
faith  displayed  itself  with  most  remarkable  effect  in  the  re- 
ception of  the  holy  communion.  Her  devotion  to  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  was  most  ardent,  and  she  may  be  truly  said 
to  have  belonged  to  the  number  of  those  described  by  the 
pious  h  Kempis,  who  crave  with  heart  and  lips  to  receive 
their  God,  the  fountain  of  living  waters,  and  can  allay  or 
satisfy  their  hunger  only  by  feasting  with  all  spiritual  avidity 
and  sweetness  on  his  sacred  body.  Oh,  true  and  burning  faith, 
a  proof  of  the  real  presence  of  Christ  on  our  altars  !  Such 
was  the  faith  of  Mother  Seton ;  for,  with  the  disciples,  she 
recognised  her  Lord  "  in  the  breaking  of  bread,"  and  her 
heart  glowed  within  her  as  he  walked  with  her  in  the  way.* 
These  were  precious  moments  of  heavenly  blessing,  according 
to  her  belief,  and  she  therefore  taught  her  children,  when 
young,  to  unite  their  prayers  with  hers  whenever  she  had 
the  happiness  to  communicate.  On  her  retiring  from  the 
holy  table,  her  two  youngest  daughters  might  be  seen  ap 
preaching  her,  one  on  each  side,  and  reclining  their  innocent 


*  '•  0  vera  ardens  fides  oorum,  probabile  existens  argumentum  sacm 
prsesentiae  tuae ;  isti  enim  veraciter  cognoseunt  Dominum  suum  in  frao- 
tione  pauis,  quorum  cor  tarn  valide  ardet  in  eis  de  Jesu  ambulante  cum 
•i>."— De  luiitiit.  Christ!,  lib.  iv.  14 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON  415 

beads  on  the  maternal  bosom,  to  draw  from  that  living  sanc- 
tuary of  the  Divinity  streams  of  heavenly  grace,  while  all 
three  poured  forth  their  hearts  in  praise  and  thanksgiving 
to  the  Almighty. 

Impressed  as  Mother  Seton  was  with  the  momentous  reali- 
ties of  the  world  to  come,  and  the  vanity  of  present  things, 
ske  could  not  but  be  filled  with  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  salvation  of  souls.  Such  in  fact  were  the  great  ends 
of  her  entire  consecration  to  the  divine  service;  and  when 
she  reflected  upon  the  immense  numbers  that  were  ignorant 
of  revealed  truth,  seated  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow  of 
death,  it  was  the  ardent  aspiration  of  her  soul  that  mission- 
aries should  go  forth  to  announce  on  every  side  the  glad 
tidings  of  salvation,  while  she  labored  by  her  prayers  and  ex- 
ample to  advance  the  kingdom  of  God  at  home  and  abroad. 
The  following  note,  which  she  addressed  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Brute",  depicts  in  lively  coloring  the  burning  desires  of  her 
heart: — "Blessed,  your  poor  little  Mother  is  lost  these  days 
past  in  your  letters, — to  see  man  a  wild  savage — a  polished 
savage — a  man  in  any  state,  what  a  savage  unless  he  be  in 
Christ !  Oh,  blessed,  I  gasp  with  desires  to  Him  whom  you 
are  now  carrying  in  and  on  your  breast,  for  your  furll,  whole 
accomplishment  of  his  blessed  will.  I  glance  a  fearful  look 
at  you  and  Mr.  Cooper,  and  say  secretly,  '  If  I  was  one  or  the 
other!' — then  adore  and  think  I  know  nothing  about  it;  oulj 
it  seems  to  me  that  those  who  have  light  and  grace  already 
might  be  trusted  to  keep  it,  and  I  would  not  stop  night  or 
day  till  I  reached  the  dry  and  dark  wilderness  where  neithar 
can  be  found,  where  such  horrid  crimes  go  on  for  want  of 
them,  and  where  there  is  such  a  glorious  death  to  be  gaiued 
by  carrying  them.  Oh,  Gabriel,  if  I  was  light  and  life,  as 
you  are,  I  would  shout  like  a  madman  alone  to  my  God,  and 
roar  and  groan  and  sigh  and  be  silent  all  together,  till  1  had 
baptized  a  thousand  and  snatched  these  poor  victims  from 


4l8  THE    LIFE    OP 

heL  And  pray,  madam,  say  you,  why  does  not  your  zea< 
make  its  flame  through  your  own  little  hemisphere?  Truej 
but  rules,  prudence,  subjection,  opinions,  &c.  are  dreadful 
walls  to  a  burning  soul  wild  as  mine.  For  me,  I  am  like  a 
fiery  horse  I  had  when  a  girl,  whom  they  tried  to  break  by 
making  him  drag  a  heavy  cart,  and  the  poor  beast  was  so 
humbled  that  he  could  never  more  be  inspired  by  whips  or 
caresses,  and  wasted  to  a  skeleton  till  he  died.  But  you  and 
Mr.  Cooper  might  waste  to  skeletons  to  some  purpose,  and, 
after  wasting,  be  sent  still  living  to  the  glories  of  the  king- 
dom. In  the  mean  time,  that  kingdom  come !  Every  day  I 
ask  my  soul  what  I  do  for  it  in  my  little  part  assigned,  and 
san  see  nothing  but  to  smile,  caress,  b<  patient,  write,  pray, 
and  '  wait  before  Him.'  Oh !  my  blessed  God  1  that  king- 
dom cornel" 

Thus  did  Mother  Seton  labor  for  the  kingdom  of  God. 
The  many  hearts  in  which  she  kindled  the  fire  of  divine  love 
within  the  limits  of  St.  Joseph's  Valley,  and  the  precious 
fruits  of  charity  and  piety  dispensed  far  and  wide  by  her 
spiritual  daughters,  will  bear  testimony  to  the  fervor  and 
efficacy  of  her  zeal.  For  several  years  before  her  death  it 
was  her  custom  to  ask  of  God  for  her  Christmas  gift,  as  she 
jovially  termed  it, — the  conversion  of  some  poor  soul  that  was 
still  wandering  in  the  devious  paths  of  error  or  was  but 
nominally  a  member  of  the  true  Church.  Christmas  was 
the  day  usually  appointed  for  the  first  communion  of  the 
children,  and  their  saintly  superior,  with  an  ingenuity  c.f 
zeal  not  less  admirable  than  it  was  effective,  enlisted  their 
youthful  hearts  in  the  holy  work  of  offering  violence  to 
Heaven.  On  one  of  these  occasions  she  observed  to  th« 
children,  the  evening  preceding  the  above-mentioned  festival, 
that,  if  they  had  taken  all  necessary  care  to  place  their  souls 
in  a  worthy  state  for  the  reception  of  our  blessed  Lord,  he 
would  not  hesitate  to  graut  the  reasonable  requests  of  thnii 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  417 

pure  and  innocent  hearts.  "Pray,  then,  my  beloved  ones 
pray  much  for  your  parents;  pray  for  the  gift  of  perseverance; 
and  Mother  begs  you  to  pray  most  earnestly  for  the  conver- 
sion of  a  dear  friend  of  mine  in  New  York,  to  whom  I  have 
never  written  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Pray,  my  dear 
ones,  that  this  soul  may  be  added  to  the  fold."  The  chil- 
dren promised  to  comply  with  her  request.  For  some  time 
Mother  Seton  received  no  letters  from  the  lady  in  question, 
although  she  had  been  in  the  habit  of  writing  frequently  to 
her  friend  at  St.  Joseph's.  But  a  few  months  after  the 
prayers  of  the  Mother  and  children  had  ascended  to  the 
throne  of  God  in  her  behalf,  she  despatched  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Seton,  explaining  the  reason  of  the  interruption  in  her  cor- 
respondence. "Be  not  surprised  at  my  silence,"  said  she; 
"but  you  will  be  surprised  when  I  tell  you  I  am  a  Bx>man 
Catholic.  While  deliberating  and  examining,  I  determined 
not  to  communicate  my  new  thoughts  to  you,  fearing  lest  my 
friends  should  attribute  my  change  of  religion  to  your  influ- 
ence. I  wished  that  all  the  glory  of  this  wonderful  mercy 
of  God  should  be  attributable  to  himself  alone."  Thus  did 
the  Almighty  reward  the  fervent  zeal  and  humble  prayer  of 
his  servant.  Several  remarkable  conversions  were  known 
to  have  occurred  precisely  at  the  time  when  she  solicited 
these  favors  from  the  divine  goodness. 

That  the  kingdom  of  God  might  be  extended  everywhere 
in  the  souls  of  men,  Mother  Seton  wished  most  ardently  that 
his  priests  should  be  worthy  of  their  sublime  and  holy  call- 
ing as  "  the  ministers  of  Christ  and  the  dispensers  of  the 
mysteries  of  God."  As  a  member  of  the  flock  under  their 
charge,  she  was  full  of  reverence,  piety,  and  submission;  but 
such  was  her  lofty  appreciation  of  the  sacerdotal  character 
and  office,  that  she  wished  most  fervently  to  see  in  every 
priest  the  man  of  God,  fully  sensible  of  the  magnitude  and 

holiness  jf  the  work  to  which  he  is  called.     "  Oh  that  priest* 

2  B 


H8  THE    LIFE    OF 

felt  for  fchemselves,"  exclaims  a  saintly  prelate,  whose  me- 
mory is  now  in  veneration  throughout  the  American  Church,* 
"oh  that  priests  felt  for  themselves  as  Mother  Seton  felt  they 
ought  to  be !  How  much  did  she  not  suffer  in  witnessing 
their  imperfections !  How  sorrowfully,  yet  how  charitably, 
did  she  consider  their  faults !"  She  was  much  pained  when 
she  heard  the  word  of  God  announced  by  clergymen  in  • 
manner  unworthy  of  so  important  and  sacred  a  function. 
On  one  occasion  she  did  not  hesitate  to  give  a  word  of 
friendly  advice  to  a  young  priest,  who  had  preached  very 
negligently  the  day  before  and  acknowledged  that  he  had 
not  troubled  himself  much  about  it.  "Sir,"  said  she,  "that 
awakens  my  anger.  Do  you  remember  a  priest  holds  the 
honor  of  God  on  his  lips?  Do  you  not  trouble  yourself  to 
spread  his  fire  he  wishes  so  much  enkindled  ?  If  you  will 
not  study  and  prepare  while  young,  what  when  you  are  old? 
There  is  a  mother's  lesson."  The  holy  bishop  just  referred 
to  has  left  behind  him  the  acknowledgment  that  no  one  ever 
impressed  his  soul  so  forcibly  as  Mother  Seton  did  with  the 
idea  of  what  a  true  priest  ought  to  be.  The  following  advice 
she  sent  to  a  clergyman  in  Baltimore,  who  had  a  preference 
for  Emmettsburg,  exhorting  him  to  that  perfect  purity  of 
service  which  excluded  even  the  most  natural  and  innocent 
gratification.  "  My  heart  and  soul  this  week  past  have  been 
under  the  press  of  the  beatitude,  '  Blessed  are  the  clean  of 
heart,  for  THEY  SHALL  SEE  GOD.'  Oh,  my  brother,  take 
those  words  on  yours,  and  in  my  Sunday  dear  communion  I 
will  beg  our  God  to  write  them  on  it.  Happy,  happy  are 
you  to  live  all  for  him,  every  bent  of  your  heart's  affections, 
every  power  of  your  soul,  turned  wholly  to  him,  without  even 
the  mixture  of  the  innocent  sojourning  a  while  with  your  old 


*  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Brutl,  first  Bishop  of  Vinoennea. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  419 

father  and  dear  brother.*  How  much  purer  is  your  service 
where  you  are,  above  the  mist  of  earthly  attraction !  One 
thing  I  hope  you  are  convinced  of,  (I  as  a  wretched  sinner 
know  it  well,)  that,  wherever  we  meet  a  little  prop  of  human 
comfort,  there  is  always  some  subtraction  of  divine  comfort; 
and,  for  my  part,  I  am  so  afraid  to  cause  any  such  subtraction, 
lhat  I  feel  a  reserve  and  fear  in  every  human  consolation,  that 
makes  them  more  my  pains  than  my  pleasures;  yet  the  liberty 
of  children  of  God  I  hope  in  all.  I  only  mean  to  say,  we 
should  be  too  happy  when  the  providence  of  our  God  keeps 
us  wholly  to  himself.  .  .  .  You  are  remembered  and  loved 
here  too  much  to  make  it  a  safe  place  for  you,  unless  you 
were  sent  by  God  himself  without  the  least  agency  of  your 
own,  and  even  then  I  fear  my  brother  would  grow  lean. 
Pray  for  us,  I  pray.  Your  own  poor  Mother." 

We  should  leave  unfinished  the  character  of  faith  so  emi- 
nently observable  in  Mother  Seton,  if  we  did  not  record  her 
filial  devotion  to  the  Mother  of  God,  the  common  mother  of 
all  faithful  souls.  She  was  full  of  confidence  in  the  interces- 
sion of  Mary,  taught  her  children  to  honor  and  invoke  the 
assistance  of  that  glorious  Virgin,  and,  as  a  tribute  of  her 
veneration,  she  promised  her  that  her  spiritual  daughters 
should  ever  bear  her  name.  Hence,  many  members  of  the 
community  assume  the  name  of  Mary  when  it  can  be  con- 
veniently connected  with  their  distinctive  appellation,  and 
all  look  upon  it  as  theirs,  although  not  mentioned. 

By  these  fervent  dispositions  did  Mother  Seton  apply 
herself,  especially  during  the  twelve  years  of  her  retirement 
from  the  world,  to  fulfil  the  merciful  designs  of  Divine 
Providence.  She  was  called  in  a  special  manner  to  a  labor 
of  love;  to  the  illustration  of  that  well-ordered  charity 
which  the  inspired  volume  teaches  to  be  an  unequivocal 

•  Two  clergymen,  friends  tf  the  one  to  whom  she  waa  writing. 


420  THE    LIFE    Of 

mark  of  acceptance  before  God,*  the  bond  of  perfection,f  and 
the  fulfilment  of  the  law;J  and  her  efforts  to  correspond  to 
this  high  vocation  were  generous  and  unreserved.  She  re- 
nounced the  world,  and  then  renounced  herself,  to  become 
qualified  for  the  holy  work  to  which  she  was  destined,  to 
promote  the  glory  of  God  in  the  service  of  his  creatures. 
For  this  purpose  she  purified  her  heart  from  every  affection 
and  aspiration  that  did  not  refer  to  Him,  that  she  might  be 
a  victim  of  divine  love,  thinking,  speaking,  acting,  only  in 
accordance  with  and  from  the  impulse  of  his  holy  will.(S3) 
Heaven  accepted  the  sweet  perfume  of  virtue  which  she  thus 
offered  on  the  altar  of  charity, — the  generous  and  entire  con- 
secration of  herself  to  the  honor  of  Jesus  Christ  in  his  poor 
and  suffering  members, — and,  rallying  around  her  other  hearts 
worthy  of  co-operating  in  the  noble  undertaking,  it  made  her 
the  firm  corner-stone  of  a  work  which  has  become  a  lasting 
and  extensive  blessing  to  the  Church  in  the  United  States 
of  America.  She  held  herself  and  her  community  alwaya 
ready  for  the  execution  of  the  good  purposes  of  God,  and  she 
had  the  consolation  to  see  the  poor  instructed  and  comforted, 
the  orphan  sheltered  from  the  frowns  of  a  pitiless  world, 
youth  trained  up  in  piety  and  knowledge,  and  a  numerous 
community  of  holy  women,  who  were  everywhere  the  "good 
odor  of  Christ,"§  diffusing  on  every  side  that  light  of  virtue 
which,  according  to  his  command,  must  so  shine  before  men 
that  they  may  see  our  good  works  and  glorify  our  Father 
who  is  in  heaven. ||  With  such  a  spectacle  before  her  eyes, 
with  so  many  evidences  of  the  divine  blessing  attending  her, 
she  could  hail  with  joy  the  close  of  life,  as  the  termination 
of  her  appointed  course  and  the  moment  of  glorious  reward. 


•  John  ziii.  34,  35.  t  Colow.  UL  14.  J  Rom.  xiiL  8,  i. 

}  2  Cor.  ii.  15.  |  Matt  T.  16. 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETOW.  421 

"Now  thou  dost  dismiss  thy  servant,  OLoid,  in  peace,  be- 
cause my  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation,  which  thou  hast  pr  •- 
pared  before  the  face  of  11  peoples, — a  light  to  the  revelation 
of  the  Gentiles,  and  the  glory  of  thy  people  Israel."* 

From  the  attack  of  illness  which  she  suffered  in  1818 
Mother  Seton  never  entirely  recovered.  Her  constitution 
had  been  completely  shattered,  and,  by  greater  exposure  than 
her  delicate  health  would  permit,  she  contracted,  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1820,  a  pulmonary  disease  which  confined  her  during 
four  months  to  her  room  and  baffled  every  effort  of  her 
medical  attendants.  As  she  approached  the  term  of  her 
earthly  career,  no  change  was  visible  in  her  dispositions,  ex- 
cept that  she  became  more  united  to  God  and  more  dis- 
engaged from  all  created  things.  Though  her  sufferings  were 
very  great  at  times,  no  complaint  ever  escaped  her  lips,  and 
it  was  chiefly  her  moaning  during  sleep  that  indicated  the 
severity  of  her  pains.  Such  was  her  attention  to  improve 
every  opportunity  of  merit,  that  she  felt  distressed  at  the  ef- 
forts which  the  affection  of  her  spiritual  daughters  suggested 
for  her  relief,  and  submitted  to  them  only  by  the  advice  of 
her  director.  If  nature  would  sometimes  manifest,  under 
the  influence  of  pain,  an  uneasiness  which  was  altogether 
involuntary,  she  reproached  herself  with  it  and  immediately 
sought  to  efface  it  by  the  grace  of  absolution  Notwithstand- 
ing the  painfulness  of  her  situation,  slw  tras  ever  cheerful, 
ever  ready  to  receive  the  visits  of  her  aJ-ters  and  to  give 
directions  relative  to  the  affairs  <rf  ch  3  community.  As  to  the 
children  of  the  academy,  she  delighted  to  hear  them  at  their 
innocent  sport  and  to  call  them  into  her  room  to  give  them 
some  token  of  her  maternal  kindness.  The  children  of  the 
poor  school  were  special  objects  of  her  inquiry  and  affection* 
ate  regard.  While  prostrate  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  one  of 


•  Lake  ii.  29,  Ac. 
M 


422  THE    LIFE    OY 

her  former  pupils,  about  to  enter  upon  a  long  journey,  called 
to  see  her,  and  before  leaving  she  knelt  and  asked  her  bless- 
ing. Mother  Seton,  raising  her  hand,  replied,  "God  bless 
you,  my  loved  child.  Remember  Mother's  first  and  last 
lesson  to  you : — seek  God  in  all  things.  In  all  your  actions 
submit  your  motives  to  this  unerring  test : — '  Will  this  be  ap- 
proved of  by  his  all-seeing  eye  ?'  If  you  do  this,  you  will 
live  in  his  presence  and  will  preserve  the  graces  of  your  first 
communion.  You  will  never  see  Mother  again  on  this  earth. 
May  we  meet  in  heaven !  Three  wheels  of  the  old  carriage" 
(a  term  she  often  applied  to  her  body)  "are  broken  down,  the 
fourth  very  near  gone ;  then  with  the  wings  of  a  dove  will 
my  soul  fly  and  be  at  rest.  Remember  me,  and,  if  you  love 
poor  old  Mother,  pray  for  her."  Perceiving  that  her  young 
friend  was  very  much  affected,  she  called  her  back,  embraced 
her  affectionately,  and  said,  "Not  forever  do  we  part:  a 
few  short  years,  dearest,  and  we  will  be  united,  never,  never 
to  part.  God  bless  you  again !"  These  words  display  the 
whole  spirit  of  Mother  Seton  during  her  illness.  Peace, 
love,  confidence,  joy, — such  were  the  sentiments  that  sup- 
ported her  in  her  last  trial  and  by  which  she  administered  com- 
fort to  those  around  her.  When  she  perceived  the  anxiety  of 
her  sisters  in  regard  to  her  situation,  she  would  try  to  calm 
their  apprehensions,  by  saying,  "  His  will  be  done !"  The 
peaceful  quiet  which  she  enjoyed  was  not  the  result  of  a 
presumptuous  reliance  upon  her  own  merits;  for  she  had  a 
lively  fear  of  the  divine  judgments.  But  her  soul  was  tran- 
quillized by  that  filial  confidence  which  is  inspired  by  the 
love  of  God  and  the  consideration  of  his  infinite  mercy.* 
One  of  the  sisters  having  expressed  the  wish  that  God  would 
grant  her  the  opportunity  of  entirely  expiating  her  fault* 
during  life,  that  at  the  moment  of  death  she  might  fly  to  th« 

•  "Mercy  and  judgment  I  will  sing  to  thee,  0  Lord !" — Psalm  100. 


MRS.   E.    A.    SET  ON.  423 

embraces  of  her  heavenly  Spouse,  Mother  Seton  raised  her 
eyes  and  said,  "  My  blessed  God !  how  far  from  that  thought 
am  I,  of  going  straight  to  heaven !  such  a  miserable  creature 
as  I  am  I"  Another  time  the  same  sister  inquired  how  she 
felt.  "  I  do  not  suffer,"  she  said ;  "  I  am  weak,  it  is  true ;  but 
how  happy  and  quiet  the  day  passes !  If  this  be  the  way  of 
death,  nothing  can  be  more  peaceful  and  happy;  and  if  1 
am  to  recover,  still,  how  sweet  to  rest  in  the  arms  of  our 
Lord !  I  never  felt  more  sensibly  the  presence  of  our 
Dearest  than  since  I  have  been  sick;  it  seems  as  if  our 
Lord  or  his  blessed  Mother  stood  continually  by  me,  in  a 
corporeal  form,  to  comfort,  cheer,  and  encourage  me,  in  the 
different  weary  and  tedious  hours  of  pain.  But  you  will 
laugh  at  my  imaginations;  still,  our  All  has  many  ways  of 
comforting  his  little  atoms."  To  the  last,  she  gave  an  exam  • 
pie  of  the  most  faithful  submission  to  the  divine  will,  follow- 
ing as  much  as  possible  the  spiritual  exercises  which  the  rule 
of  the  house  prescribed.  Obedience  to  the  rules  was  a  les- 
son which  she  most  earnestly  inculcated  to  the  sisters,  during 
her  illness,  as  the  surest  means  of  sanctifying  themselves 
and  promoting  the  glory  of  God. 

To  maintain  in  her  soul  this  holy  disposition  of  entire 
submission  to  the  will  of  Providence,  she  prayed  continu- 
ally and  fervently,  and  availed  herself  with  the  greatest 
avidity  and  thankfulness  of  every  aid  and  blessing  that  her 
holy  faith  could  impart.  Mr.  Brute",  her  confessor  and 
director,  was  constantly  at  her  side,  suggesting  the  most  per- 
fect sentiments  of  resignation,  penance,  love,  confidence,  and 
union  with  Jesus  Christ.  His  ministry  was  a  source  of  the 
most  abundant  graces  to  her  soul.(M)  But  the  happiness 
of  receiving  our  Lord  in  the  sacrament  of  his  love  was  the 
chief  object  of  her  pious  aspirations.  This  was  her  treasure 
and  her  support.  The  bread  of  angels  was  administered  to 
her  frequently  during  the  week,  and  on  one  of  these  occa- 


424  THE    LIFE    Of 

Bions  she  exhibited  that  ardor  of  faith  which  indicated  the 
almost  sensible  presence  of  her  God  and  struck  the  behold- 
ers with  astonishment.  Such  was  her  joy  at  the  anticipation 
of  the  holy  communion,  that,  when  the  priest  entered  her 
room  and  placed  the  consecrated  species  on  the  table,  her 
countenance,  before  pale,  began  to  glow  with  animation.  No 
longer  capable  of  suppressing  the  lively  emotions  of  her  soul, 
she  burst  into  tears  and  sobbed  aloud,  covering  her  face  with 
her  hands  Supposing  at  first  that  she  feared  to  communi- 
cate, the  minister  of  God  approached,  and  said  to  her, 
"Peace,  Mother!  here  is  the  Lord  of  peace.  Have  you  any 
pain?  Do  you  wish  to  confess  ?"  "No,  no;  ouly  give  Him 
to  me,"  she  replied,  with  a  fervency  of  manner  which  showed 
the  burning  desire  of  her  heart  to  be  united  to  Jesus  Christ. 

During  her  last  illness  Mother  Seton  appeared  to  realize 
more  than  ever  the  happiness  of  dying  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  Having  been  asked  by  one  of  her  spiritual 
directors  what  she  considered  the  greatest  blessing  ever  be- 
stowed upon  her  by  the  Almighty,  she  answered,  "  That  of 
being  brought  into  the  Catholic  Church."  She  now  expe- 
rienced all  the  consolation  that  this  tender  mother  oflers  tc 
her  children  in  the  most  trying  hour  of  existence,  and  she 
often  spoke  with  a  holy  transport  of  the  happiness  of  dying 
in  her  arms,  saying,  "  How  few  know  the  value  of  such  a 
blessing  I" 

Her  symptoms  having  become  very  alarming,  it  was 
thought  advisable  to  administer  the  last  rites  of  religion. 
At  that  impressive  moment  all  her  spiritual  daughters  were 
called  into  the  room,  and,  as  she  was  too  feeble  to  address 
them  herself,  the  Superior,  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  performed  thii 
office  in  her  name,  and  thus  delivered  to  the  assembled  com- 
munity the  last  will  of  their  dying  Mother : — "  Mother  Seton, 
being  too  weak,  charges  me  to  recommend  to  you  at  this 
•acred  moment,  in  her  place,  1st,  to  be  united  together  as  true 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  425 

Sisters  of  Charity;  2d,  to  stand  most  faithfully  by  your 
rules;  3d,  that  I  ask  pardon  for  all  the  scandals  she  may 
have  given  you, — that  is,  for  indulgences  prescribed  during 
sickness  by  me  or  the  physician."  She  then  lifted  up  her 
faint  voice  and  said,  "I  am  thankful,  sisters,  for  your  kind- 
ness to  be  present  at  this  trial.  Be  children  of  the  Church ; 
be  children  of  the  Church,"  she  repeated,  with  a  lively  sense 
of  the  consolation  and  grace  she  was  about  to  receive  in  the 
sacrament  of  Extreme  Unction.  With  the  same  intense  ap- 
preciation of  the  divine  blessings  did  she  unite  in  the  cere- 
mony/35)  Some  of  the  sisters,  with  her  only  surviving  daugh- 
ter,* were  always  near  her;  but  what  were  their  feelings  at  the 
anticipation  of  the  sad  bereavement  they  were  soon  to  expe- 
rience may  be  more  easily  imagined  than  described.  When, 
at  length,  the  fearful  conflict  for  their  hearts  arrived,  they 
pressed  around  the  couch  of  their  dying  and  venerated  Mo- 
ther in  fervent  prayer  and  deepest  anguish.  Mother  Seton 
alone  seemed  to  possess  true  fortitude  in  this  eventful  mo- 
ment, and  to  enjoy  the  most  profound  peace.  Though  dis- 
tress was  depicted  in  every  countenance,  though  she  heard 
the  heart-rending  sobs  of  her  beloved  daughter  and  saw  her 
swooning  away  in  an  agony  of  grief  at  her  side,  she  evinced 
no  emotion ;  not  the  slightest  agitation  was  visible  in  her 
appearance.  All  was  peace,  and  entire  resignation  into 
the  hands  of  God.  Raising  her  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven 
in  a  spirit  of  the  most  humble  submission  to  the  decrees  of 
Providence,  she  repeated  the  words,  "  May  the  most  just, 
the  most  high,  and  the  most  amiable  will  of  God  be  accom- 
plished forever !"  She  then  requested  one  of  her  attendants 
to  recite  for  her  the  favorite  prayer,  "  Soul  of  Christ,  sanctify 


*  Her  eldest  son  was  absent  on  a  cruise  ;  the  other  arrived  from  Italy 
during  his  mother's  illness,  but,  the  situation  of  his  affairs  hurrying  him 

/,  he  took  a  final  leave  of  her,  and  some  time  after  died  at  sea. 
3(1  • 


428  THE    LIFE    OP 

me;  Body  of  Christ,  save  me,"  &c. ;  but  the  sister,  over- 
powered by  her  grief,  not  being  able  to  proceed,  Mother 
Seton  continued  the  prayer  herself.  Her  last  words  were 
the  sacred  names  of  Jesus,  Mary,  Joseph,  to  whom  she 
yielded  her  heart,  her  spirit,  her  life,  to  whose  care  she  com- 
mitted her  last  agony,  and  in  whose  blessed  company  she 
hoped  to  repose  forever.  After  this  she  lost  the  power  of 
speech,  and  it  appeared  to  the  sister  who  was  nearest  to  her 
that  our  Lord  was  in  a  special  manner  present  at  her  side, 
as  if  waiting  to  bear  away  in  triumph  that  precious  soul 
Thus  did  Mother  Seton  pass  to  her  eternal  rest,  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  on  the  4th  of  January,  1821,  in  the 
47th  year  of  her  age. 

The  funeral  obsequies  took  place  on  the  following  day, 
when,  in  union  with  the  holy  sacrifice  of  the  altar,  the  many 
desolate  hearts  of  St.  Joseph's  community  ascended  in  fer- 
vent sighs  to  heaven  for  her  happy  repose.  With  over- 
whelming tears  and  regrets,  they  bore  her  remains  to  their 
humble  resting-place,  where  they  planted  the  simple  cross, 
the  emblem  of  her  virtue,  and  the  rose-bush,  the  symbol  of 
her  immortal  crown 

"Bend  o'er  this  tomb,  fond  creature  of  a  day, 
And,  sad  and  pensive,  read  the  mournful  lay; 
Or,  round  the  spot,  of  flowers  the  fairest  strew, 
Flowers  that  bloom  and  fade  like  her  and  you. 
Here  lies — alas !  not  words  nor  mimic  art 
Can  show  this  sainted  soul,  the  seraph  heart, 
The  manner  bland,  the  mind  serene  and  clear, 
Which  once  informed  the  clay  that  moulders  here. 
Here  let  the  poor,  the  orphan,  come  to  mourn  ; 
Let  Mercy  weep,  for  this  is  Seton's  urn. 
Here  let  Religion's  sighs  and  tears  be  given ; 
Ah  !  no  ;  she  smiles  again,  and  points  to  Heaven."* 

*  Written  by  an  alumnus  of  Mt.  St.  Mary's  College, 


MRS.   E.    A.    SETON.  427 

Since  Mother  Seton's  death,  the  work  of  holiness  and 
charity  which  she  commenced  has  expanded  into  vast  pro- 
portions, and  is  the  admiration  of  our  country  and  of  the 
world.*  Her  children  seeing  this,  have  risen  up  and 
"caLed  her  blessed."  Her  children  in  the  order  of  nature 
remember,  with  filial  gratitude  and  love,  the  lessons  of  sanc- 
tity which  she  endeavored  to  impress  upon  their  youthful 
hearts ;  they  bless  her  memory,  and  aim  at  being  worthy  of 
BO  illustrious  a  parent.  Her  children  by  education  recall 
with  grateful  sentiments  the  happiness  of  having  enjoyed 
her  enlightened  and  maternal  care ;  they  declare  her  praises, 
and,  with  them  who  still  reap  the  benefits  of  her  institution, 
they  offer  their  gifts  at  St.  Joseph's  shrine, — the  pledges  of 
their  love  and  veneration.  Her  children  by  charity — the 
poor,  the  afflicted,  the  destitute  orphan,  the  victim  of  disease, 
all  the  children  of  misfortune — rise  up  to  publish  her  glory. 
With  thanks  to  heaven,  they  pronounce  her  name  as  that  of 
their  true  benefactor,  their  enduring  friend.  But,  above  all, 
her  children  in  the  order  of  grace  proclaim  her  blessedness. 
They  look  upon  the  world  with  all  its  fascinating  objects, — 
its  riches,  its  pleasures,  its  vain  admiration  and  applause, — 
and  then  turn  with  disgust  from  these  dazzling  but  treacher- 
ous allurements,  to  choose  for  their  portion  the  humility, 
charity,  and  mortification  of  their  holy  foundress.  They 
know  that  "religion  clean  and  undefiled  with  God  and  the 
Father  is  to  visit  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their  tribu- 
lation and  keep  one's  self  unspotted  from  this  world ;"f  tha 
an  essential  mark  of  the  elect  is  to  assist  the  poor  and  suf- 
fering members  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  feed  the  hungry,  to  clothe 
the  naked,  to  harbor  the  stranger,  to  visit  the  sick;J  in 
fine,  that  they  who  "instruct  many  to  justice  shall  shine 


•  For  further  details  of  its  history,  see  first  edition  of  thia  work, 
f  SL  Jamos,  i.  27.  J  St.  Matt.  XXT.  35,  Ac. 


428  THE    LIFE    OP     MES.    E.    A     SETON. 

as  stare  for  all  eternity."*  Hence  they  cherish  the  memory 
of  Mother  Seton,  and,  as  an  incentive  to  emulate  her  holy 
example  and  aspire  to  her  glorious  reward,  they  have  in- 
scribed, on  the  wall  of  the  humhle  chamber  in  which  she 
expired,  the  following  memento: — 

"  Here,  near  this  door,  by  this  fireplace,  on  a  poor,  lowly 
couch,  died  our  cherished  and  saintly  Mother  Seton,  on  the 
4th  of  January,  1821.  She  died  in  poverty,  but  rich  in 
faith  and  good  works.  May  we,  her  children,  walk  in  her 
footsteps  and  share  one  day  in  her  happiness !  Amen/' 

•  BM.lB.lL 


APPENDIX. 


Sister  ROM  White  elected  Mother-Superior — Missions  established  dur- 
ing  her  term  of  office — New  building — Wonderful  cures — Mr.  Duboii 
Appointed  Bishop  of  New  York — Rev.  Dr.  Deluol  Superior-General 
of  the  Sisters — Sister  Mary  Augustine  Deoount  elected  Mother- 
Superior — Missions — The  cholera — Sister  Rose  re-elected — Rev.  John 
Ilickey  Superior- General — Missions  during  Mother  Rose's  second 
administration — Additional  building — Erection  of  a  new  church — 
Sister  Mary  Xavier  Clarke  elected  Mother-Superior — Missions — Mr. 
Delaol  Superior-General — Death  of  Sister  Rose  White — Her  char- 
acter— Other  buildings  erected  for  the  academy  and  sisterhood — Sis- 
ter Mary  Etienne  Hall  elected  Mother- Superior — Missions — Orphan 
asylum — Monument  to  Mother  Seton — Chapel  of  Our  Lady  of  the 
Valley — Union  of  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood  with  the  Congregation  in 
France  established  by  St.  Vincent  of  Paul — Rer.  Mariano  Mailer 
Director  of  the  United  States  Province  for  three  years,  then  ap- 
pointed Director  and  Visitor  of  the  Province  in  Brazil — Rev.  Francis 
Burlando  holds  the  office  of  Director  for  twenty  years — Mother 
Regina  Smith  Visitatrix — New  Missions  and  Establishments  during 
her  Administration — Mother  Ann  Simeon  Norris  Visitatrix — New 
Missions  and  works  of  charity — Mt.  Hope  Retreat — Mother  Ann 
Simeon's  death — Mother  Euphemia  Blenkinsop  Visitatrix — New 
Missions — Additional  buildings  at  St.  Joseph's — Rev.  F.  Burlando's 
death — Rev.  F.  Gn£dry  Director  resigned  and  Rev.  Alexis  Mandine 
appointed  to  the  office — Statistics. 

THE  great  work  of  which  Mother  Seton  laid  the  foun- 
dation, and  which  had  already  produced  the  most  happy 
results  for  religion  and  society  before  her  departure  from 
life,  has  continued  ever  since  that  period  to  increase  in 
usefulness,  by  the  instruction  of  youth,  the  promotion 
of  piety  and  the  relief  of  suffering  humanity.  Some 
notice  of  these  eminent  services  is  necessary  to  fill  up 
the  picture  of  that  vast  amount  of  good  which  has  been 
the  effect  of  her  charity  and  zeal. 


430  THE    LIFE    C 

To  fill  the  vacancy  in  the  office  of  Superior,  an  elec- 
tion was  held  on  the  25th  of  January,  1821,  which  re- 
sulted in  the  choice  of  Sister  Rose  White,  who  had  been 
appointed  successively  to  conduct  an  orphan  asylum  in 
Philadelphia  and  New  York.  Her  sound  judgment  and 
administrative  talent  joined  to  fervent  piety  and  sweet- 
ness of  manners,  indicated  her  as  a  person  well  qualified 
to  succeed  Mother  Seton.  At  the  time  of  her  election 
she  was  acting  as  sister-servant  at  the  asylum  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  as  soon  as  circumstances  permitted  she  set 
out  for  Emmettsburg,  where  she  arrived  on  the  20th  of 
March  and  entered  upon  the  duties  of  her  new  office, 
The  sisterhood  now  numbered  nearly  fifty  members, 
seven  or  eight  of  whom  were  employed  in  the  above- 
mentioned  cities.  The  important  benefits  derived  from 
their  charitable  labors  were  becoming  daily  more  exten- 
sively appreciated,  and  numerous  applications  were  made 
to  obtain  their  services.  During  the  period  of  Mother 
Rose's  first  administration,  an  orphan  asylum  with  a 
free  school  was  established  at  Baltimore  and  in  Washing- 
ton city,  a  benevolent  school  was  opened  at  Lancaster 
and  Frederick,  and  the  sisters  took  charge  of  the  In- 
firmary connected  with  the  medical  department  of  the 
University  of  Maryland.  The  increasing  prosperity  of 
St.  Joseph's  Academy,  which  counted  about  seventy 
pupils,  made  it  necessary  to  provide  ampler  room  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  community.  The  sisters  and 
scholars  all  occupied  the  one  building  which  had  been 
originally  erected  for  their  use,  and  which  was  far  from 
affording  convenient  space  for  their  present  purposes. 
To  supply  this  want,  a  large  three-story  edifice  of  brick 
one  hundred  feet  long  and  fifty  wide,  was  commenced  in 
the  spring  of  1826,  and  was  sufficiently  advanc&d  in  the 
summer  of  the  following  year  to  be  occupied. 


MBS.    E.   A.   SXTON.  431 

Shortly  after  the  commencement  of  this  improvement, 
Bt.  Joseph's  House,  which  from  its  birth  had  been  blessed 
with  the  constant  smiles  of  Heaven,  became  the  object 
of  its  more  visible  and  extraordinary  favors.  On  the 
10th  of  June,  one  of  the  sisters  who  had  been  reduced 
by  an  accumulation  of  disease  to  the  very  verge  of  the 
grave,  was  suddenly  restored  to  health,  immediately 
after  receiving  the  holy  communion.  For  thirty-six 
days  she  had  not  been  able  to  retain  the  least  particle 
of  food  on  her  stomach ;  and  whenever  she  attempted 
to  take  any  nourishment,  it  was  ejected  with  such  violent 
sufferings  as  to  create  the  apprehension  of  immediate 
death.  The  physicians  having  exhausted  all  the  re- 
sources of  their  art,  and  the  case  having  been  pro- 
nounced desperate,  she  was  advised  by  Mr.  Dubois  to 
make  a  novena  or  nine  days'  devotion,  in  honor  of  the 
holy  name  of  Jesus,  in  union  with  Prince  Hoheulohe, 
who  on  a  previous  occasion  had  announced  that  he 
would  pray  on  the  10th  of  each  month  for  the  intentions 
of  those  living  out  of  Europe.  On  the  last  day  of  the 
novena,  she  received  the  Blessed  Sacrament  at  the  hands 
of  the  Rev.  Superior,  and  all  her  morbid  symptoms  in- 
stantly disappeared.  On  the  10th  of  August,  another 
case  of  disease,  but  of  a  much  more  aggravated  char- 
acter, was  also  suddenly  cured  by  performing  a  similar 
oovena  in  union  with  Prince  Hohenlohe.  Mother  Rose 
was  overwhelmed  with  mingled  emotions  of  gratitude 
and  fear,  by  these  wonderful  evidences  of  the  divine 
favor.  While  she  could  not  but  rejoice  at  such  signal 
manifestations  of  the  Almighty's  goodness  in  behalf  of 
her  community,  she  knew  that  they  were  an  admonition 
to  her  and  her  sisters  to  cherish  the  spirit  of  humility, 
the  only  certain  means  of  becoming  useful  in  the  hands 
of  God  for  the  execution  of  his  merciful  designs.  "  My 


432  THE    LIFE    OT 

God,  thy  will  be  done,"  she  exclaimed  in  a  letter  to 
Archbishop  Mare"chal.  "  I  feel  frightened  at  such  marka 
of  tenderness.  What  will  become  of  us  if  we  do  not 
advance  in  humility?  My  dear  and  most  reverend 
father,  I  know  not  what  to  say,  except  that  I  am  a 
miserable  sinner,  and  a  most  ungrateful  child.  Yet  I 
trust  our  Jesus  has  his  faithful  ones  among  us." 

These  auspicious  events  were  still  fresh  in  the  grateful 
recollection  of  the  sisterhood,  when  it  was  announced  that 
Mr.  Dubois,  the  enlightened  director  and  superior,  who 
had  watched  so  carefully  over  its  interests,  who  had  been 
so  true  a  friend  to  the  institution,  who  had  labored  so 
long  and  so  zealously  to  form  its  inmates  to  the  spirit  of 
their  sublime  vocation,  was  called  to  another  sphere  of 
action,  having  been  appointed  to  the  vacant  bishopric  of 
New  York.(M)  However  painful  on  their  part  the  sepa- 
ration that  was  to  take  place,  it  was  to  be  felt  still  more 
severely  by  the  students  and  professors  of  Mt.  St.  Mary's 
College,  of  which  Mr.  Dubois  had  been  the  founder,  and 
which  he  had  raised  from  the  humblest  beginnings  to  the 
grandest  scale  of  usefulness.  Though  far  advanced  in 
life  he  had  but  recently  erected,  as  an  addition  to  the  col- 
lege buildings,  a  large  edifice  of  hammered  stone,  nearly 
one  hundred  feet  long  and  three  stories  high ;  which,  how- 
ever, was  not  quite  finished  when  it  was  destroyed  by  fire 
in  the  spring  of  1824.  But  Mr.  Dubois's  characteristic 
fortitude  and  zeal  never  abandoned  him.  Even  while 
the  raging  element  was  doing  its  work  of  destruction,  he 
determined  to  put  up  another  building  of  larger  dimen- 
sions and  better  plan.  In  this  he  was  not  disappointed. 
By  an  appeal  to  his  personal  friends  and  the  friends  of 
education,  he  succeeded  in  accomplishing  his  object,  and 
in  the  summer  of  1826  he  took  possession  of  the  new 
edifice  with  a  numerous  band  of  pupils,  and  with  that 


MBS.    K.    IL.    8ETON  483 

heartfelt  satisfaction  which  arises  from  the  consciousness 
of  having  achieved  a  magnificent  work,  in  defiance  of 
the  most  formidable  obstacles.  It  was  a  monument 
worthy  of  being  left  behind  him,  to  attest  his  ardent  zeal 
and  indefatigable  efforts  in  the  cause  of  religion  and 
education.  Mr.  Dubois  received  the  episcopal  consecra- 
tion in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year.  As  a  bishop,  he 
was  active  and  untiring  in  his  endeavors  to  promote  the 
interests  of  the  Church,  and  amidst  the  labors  of  his 
declining  years,  it  was  a  source  of  the  greatest  consola- 
tion to  him  to  have-  the  co-operation  of  clergymen  whom 
he  had  educated  himself,  and  to  behold  around  him 
Sisters  of  Charity,  whom  he  had  trained  in  the  spirit  of 
their  exalted  vocation,  instructing  the  poor  and  tending 
the  helpless  orphan.  He  lived  also  to  see  a  collegiate 
institution  established  in  his  diocess,  "founded  on  the 
plan,  governed  by  the  rules,  and  directed  by  the  children 
of  Mt.  St.  Mary's."  This  able  and  apostolic  prelate  was 
called  to  the  recompense  of  the  faithful  servant  on  the 
20th  of  December,  1842,  in  the  79th  year  of  his  age.* 

He  was  succeeded  in  the  general  superiorship  of  the 
sisterhood  by  the  Rev.  Louis  R.  Deloul,  professor  of  the- 
ology in  St.  Mary's  Seminary,  Baltimore.  The  following 
year,  July,  1827,  Sister  Mary  Augustine  Decount  was 
elected  to  preside  more  immediately  over  the  community, 
in  the  place  of  Mother  Rose  White,  who  had  held  office 
for  two  consecutive  terms  and  was  not  re-eligible.  Mother 
Augustine  Decount  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Oct. 
8th,  1786.  Her  parents  were  good,  pious  Catholics. 
Being  gifted  with  remarkable  musical  talents  and  a  fine 
voice,  she  taught  music  in  one  of  the  first  French  acud- 

*  For  further  details  in  relation  to  Bishop  Dubois,  see  the  eloquent 

discourie  on  his  life  and  character,  delivered  by  the  Hcv.  John  McCaf 

frey,  D.D.,  at  Mt.  St.  Mary's  Church,  January  21th, 

It 


434  THE    LI/K    C* 

emiea  in  her  native  city,  and,  as  a  consequence,  she  was 
obliged  to  mingle  much  with  the  gay  world,  in  which  she 
was  greatly  admired,  and  her  society  was  much  sought. 
However,  she  listened  with  docility  to  the  admonition  of 
the  beloved  disciple :  "  Love  not  the  world,  nor  the 
things  of  the  world."  She  felt  a  powerful  attraction  to  a 
life  of  retirement,  but  she  could  not  decide.  In  this  per- 
plexity, she  had  a  remarkable  dream — that  a  venerable 
priest,  whom  she  had  never  seen  before,  told  her  that  she 
should  leave  all  to  follow  Jesus  Christ,  and  devote  herself 
to  his  service.  Some  years  after,  on  her  arrival  at  St. 
Joseph's,  when  Mother  Seton,  according  to  custom,  took 
her  into  the  chapel,  to  pay  her  respects,  first,  to  "The  Mas- 
ter of  the  House,"  dwelling  in  the  Tabernacle,  the  "  first 
object  that  attracted  her  attention  was  a  picture  of  the 
very  priest  she  had  seen  in  her  dream — a  portrait  of  St. 
Vincent,  which  is  still  hanging  in  the  community  room. 
Then  she  was  confident  that  she  was  doing  the  will  of 
God  in  her  regard.  She  arrived  in  the  Valley  July  31st, 
1817,  bringing  with  her  a  niece,  who  became  a  most 
efficient  member,  as  all  will  admit  who  were  acquainted 
with  Sister  Martina.  On  that  day,  the  society  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity  was  precisely  but  eight  years  old. 
Having  no  support  but  that  derived  from  the  school, 
Sister  Augustine  was  a  great  acquisition,  particularly  in 
the  musical  department,  and  most  zealously  did  she 
devote  herself  to  the  teaching  of  instrumental  and  vocal 
music  in  the  academy.  Besides,  she  was  a  person  of 
mature  judgment  and  experience,  willing  and  capable 
to  assist  in  the  great  work.  She  was  remarkable  for 
regularity,  order,  and  a  great  consideration  for  the  feel- 
ings of  others,  combined  with  an  innate  politeness  and 
affability  of  manner,  which  were  extended  even  to  the 
youngest  members  of  the  community.  AH  ahe  did  wai 


MRS.    E.    A.    SETON.  435 

well  done,  for  all  was  hallowed  by  the  pure  intention  of 
pleasing  God.  During  Mother  Augustine's  administra- 
tion, which  lasted  for  the  same  period,  the  valuable 
services  of  the  sisters  were  widely  extended,  by  the 
formation  of  various  establishments  of  charity  and  edu- 
cation in  different  parts  of  the  United  States.  Free 
schools  for  the  instruction  of  youth  of  the  poorer  class 
were  opened  at  Harrisburg,  Albany,  Cincinnati,  Wil- 
mington (Del.),  New  York,  Brooklyn,  Philadelphia, 
Boston,  Alexandria  (Va.) ;  asylums  for  the  protection 
and  support  of  destitute  orphans  were  commenced  at 
Albany,  Cincinnati,  New  Orleans,  Georgetown  (D.  C.), 
Brooklyn,  Philadelphia,  and  New  York ;  academies  for 
the  education  of  young  ladies  were  established  at  New 
York,  Alexandria,  and  Washington  city;  while  sisters 
were  sent  forth  to  administer  relief  to  their  suffering 
fellow-beings,  in  hospitals  at  St.  Louis,  New  Orleans, 
Philadelphia,  and  Baltimore.  The  self-sacrificing  devo- 
tion which  they  displayed  in  the  year  1832,  and  still 
more  recently,  when  that  scourge  of  nations,  the  Asiatic 
cholera,  swept  over  the  land,  will  never  be  forgotten. 
During  that  period  of  terror  and  desolation,  when  the 
entire  country  was  held  aghast  at  the  irresistible  ad- 
vances of  the  pestilence,  moving  from  city  to  city,  from 
house  to  house,  and  baffling  all  the  resources  of  human 
skill ;  when  whole  populations  fled  before  its  ravaging 
power  and  the  terrible  suddenness  of  its  destruction,  the 
Sisters  of  Charity  heroically  offered  their  services  to  face 
the  deadly  infection,  and  administer  relief  and  consola- 
tion amid  the  scenes  of  suffering  and  death.  The  civil 
authorities  of  Philadelphia  were  the  first  to  invoke  their 
aid ;  and  no  sooner  was  the  request  presented,  than  thir- 
teen heroines  were  despatched  to  that  city,  eager  to  rush 
to  the  assistance  of  those  from  whom  the  rest  of  the 


436  THE    LIVE    0V 

world  seemed  to  fly  with  horror.  The  scene  at  th« 
Mother-house  on  this  occasion  was  sublime.  The  council 
having  assembled,  a  favorable  determination  was  imme- 
diately taken,  and  a  selection  made  of  those  who  were  to 
start.  Joy  at  once  beamed  upon  the  countenances  of 
those  who  had  been  appointed,  while  they  who  remained 
behind,  looked  with  pious  envy  on  those  upon  whom  the 
happy  lot  had  fallen.  A  similar  application  was  made 
in  Baltimore  for  the  services  of  the  sisters,  and  it  was 
met  with  equal  heroism.*  Regardless  of  self  and  with 
an  entire  devotedness  to  the  welfare  of  others,  they  en- 
tered the  haunts  of  pestilence,  bending  over  the  dying 
bed  when  friends  and  relatives  were  afraid  to  approach 
it ;  angels  of  mercy,  soothing  by  every  artifice  of  tender 
charity  the  pains  of  disease,  while  they  held  before  the 
sufferer  the  symbol  of  redemption  and  raised  his  hopes 
to  heaven.  Several  of  the  sisters  fell  martyrs  to  their 
noble  charity ;  and  to  commemorate  their  deeds  of  gen- 
erous devotion  in  the  cause  of  humanity,  monuments 
were  erected  over  their  remains  by  municipal  authority ; 
while  to  their  surviving  associates  public  thanks  were 
decreed  in  testimony  of  their  exalted  virtue.*88* 

Mother  Augustine  died  on  the  27th  of  July,  1870. 
Her  remains  repose  in  the  little  cemetery  of  the  Valley. 

The  year  following  the  ravages  of  the  cholera,  Sister 
Rose  White  was  again  elected  to  the  government  of  the 
society.  At  this  period  the  Rev.  John  Hickey  was  Supe- 
rior-General, having  succeeded  Mr.  Deluol,  who  had  been 
appointed  to  the  charge  of  the  ecclesiastical  seminary  in 
Baltimore/*9*  During  the  second  term  of  Mother  Rose'a 
euperiorship,  female  academies  were  established  at  Nor- 
folk  and  Vincennes  ;  schools  were  opened  at  Richmond, 

•  Baltimore  Gazette,  October  17,  1832. 


MBS.    K.    A.    8ETON.  437 

CFtica,  Conewago,  Philadelphia,  Pittsburg,  Pottsville, 
Vincennes,  and  Martinsburg ;  orphan  asylums  were  com- 
menced at  Martinsburg,  Pittsburg,  Philadelphia,  and  St. 
Louis ;  and  hospitals  were  undertaken  in  Baltimore  and 
Richmond. 

While  the  sisters  were  thus  extending  the  sphere  of 
their  charity  abroad,  improvements  were  going  on  at  the 
Mother-house,  for  the  better  accommodation  cf  the  in- 
creasing numbers  that  sought  admission  within  its  walls. 
In  1836  was  commenced  a  large  brick  edifice,  seventy-two 
feet  long,  forty-nine  wide,  and  three  stoi'ies  high,  con- 
necting with  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  main  building, 
and  running  at  right  angles  with  it  in  a  northern  direc- 
tion. Not  long  after  its  completion,  another  undertak- 
ing was  begun,  to  supply  a  want  which  had  been  long 
felt  by  the  community — a  chapel  of  ample  dimensions 
for  the  religious  services  and  devotional  exercises  of  the 
house.  The  site  chosen  for  the  new  edifice  was  that 
which  Mother  Seton  herself  had  designated  twenty  years 
before.  All  the  preparations  for  the  work  having  been 
made,  the  ceremony  of  laying  the  corner-stone  took 
place  on  the  19th  of  March,  1839,  the  feast  of  St.  Joseph, 
the  principal  patron  of  the  institution,  and  in  less  than 
two  years  this  elegant  structure  was  ready  for  dedication 
to  the  worship  of  God.  The  solemn  rite  of  consecration 
was  performed  by  the  Most  Rev.  Archbishop  Eccleston, 
assisted  by  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Whelan,  Bishop  of  Rich- 
mond, and  a  number  of  other  clergymen,  and  in  pres- 
ence of  a  large  concourse  of  persons,  on  the  6th  of  May, 
1841.  One  of  the  most  impressive  parts  of  the  cere- 
mony was  the  procession,  by  which  the  relics,  to  be 
deposited  in  the  altar,  were  conveyed  to  their  place  of 
destination.  In  the  van  appeared  the  young  ladies  of 
the  academy,  one  hundred  and  sixty  in  number,  all 

37* 


438  THE    LIFE    OT 

dressed  in  white,  with  veils  of  the  same  color,  preceded 
by  a  banner  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  borne  by  three  of 
the  scholars ;  next  walked  the  sisters,  numbering  about 
one  hundred,  two  by  two ;  then  the  musical  band  of  Mt. 
St.  Mary's  College  with  its  pupils,  the  students  of  the 
seminary  in  surplice,  and  the  Rev.  clergy  in  chasuble; 
after  these  followed  the  urn  containing  the  holy  relics, 
mounted  on  a  beautifully  ornamented  frame  which  waa 
borne  by  four  priests ;  lastly  marched  the  bishops  in 
cope  and  mitre,  with  their  respective  assistants.  During 
the  procession,  appropriate  airs  were  performed  by  the 
band,  alternately  with  the  chanters,  who  sang  the  Te 
Deum.  The  rite  of  consecration  being  ended,  a  pontif- 
ical high  mass  was  celebrated  by  the  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop 
Whelan,  during  which  the  Rev.  Dr.  Moriarty  delivered 
a  discourse  suitable  to  -the  occasion.  This  beautiful 
church  fronts  the  western  extremity  of  the  academy,  at 
a  distance  of  about  seventy  feet.  The  style  of  its  arch- 
itecture is  Tuscan.  It  is  a  spacious  building,  one  hun- 
dred and  twelve  feet  long  and  ninety-one  wide,  with  a 
lofty  steeple,  and  embracing  at  the  rear  end  two  wings, 
one  of  which  serves  as  a  vestry-room,  the  other  for  per- 
sons connected  with  the  institution  and  strangers  who 
wish  to  attend  the  divine  service.  The  body  of  the 
church  is  reserved  for  the  sisters  and  the  young  ladies 
of  the  academy.  The  facade  is  very  appropriately  set 
off  with  a  finely-sculptured  statue  of  St.  Joseph,  and 
bears  a  Latin  inscription,  which  states  that  the  edifice, 
erected  at  the  expense  of  the  Daughters  of  Charity,  was 
dedicated  by  them  to  the  glory  of  God  in  honor  of  their 
chief  patron.'*0'  As  you  enter  the  front  door,  on  the 
left,  is  a  recess  containing  an  altar  commemorative  of 
the  seven  dolors  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  which  are  ex- 
hibited by  a  well-executed  group  in  composition.  Thif 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  439 

group  was  presented  to  the  chapel  by  a  pious  nobleman 
of  France,  to  obtain  a  share  in  the  rich  blessings  which 
God  so  readily  grants  to  his  cherished  spouses.  In  the 
recess  on  the  right  is  an  altar  sacred  to  St.  Philomena, 
which  the  piety  of  former  pupils  has  raised  and  deco- 
rated with  costly  gifts,  not  only  as  a  tribute  of  grateful 
veneration,  but  as  a  pledge  of  their  participation,  in  the 
valued  prayers  and  recollections  of  preceptresses,  re- 
membered and  beloved.  In  the  spacious  chancel  of  the 
church  rises  a  marble  altar  of  the  purest  white  and  of 
matchless  elegance,  and  elevated  high  above  it,  in  the 
niche  of  a  canopy  constructed  of  the  same  rich  mate- 
rial as  the  altar,  stands  a  well-sculptured  image  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  with  the  child  Jesus  in  her  arms. 
Above  the  tabernacle,  on  either  side,  is  seen  a  cherub 
in  the  posture  of  profound  awe  and  adoration  before  the 
holy  of  holies.  The  interior  of  the  chapel  contains, 
moreover,  several  paintings  of  merit.<41) 

At  the  period  of  its  dedication,  Mother  Xavier  Clark 
presided  over  the  institution,  having  been  elected  in  July, 
1839.  Mother  Xavier,  Catharine  Eugenie  Mett^yer,  was 
born  in  the  island  of  San  Domingo,  about  the  year  1790 
or  '91.  Her  parents  were  wealthy  planters,  holding  a 
high  rank  in  the  island,  to  which  they  had  emigrated 
from  France  a  few  years  previous  to  the  birth  of  their 
daughter  Eugenie.  They  were  among  the  most  pros- 
perous and  opulent  of  the  colony,  and  for  many  years 
fortune  was  lavish  of  her  favors  in  their  regard,  but  this 
prosperity  was  succeeded  by  the  most  severe  trials. 

The  life  of  Mother  Xavier  was  truly  a  checkered 
scene.  At  her  birth,  her  parents  enjoyed  all  the  hap- 
piness that  wealth  and  rank  can  give;  scarcely  was 
Bne  eighteen  months  old,  when  the  storm  of  adversity 
plunged  them  into  the  greatest  affliction.  An  insurroc- 


440  THE    LIfE    Of 

tiou  having  broken  out  among  the  negroes  in  the  Frenck 
colony,  more  than  two  thousand  whites  perished  within 
two  months,  and  the  Metteyer  family  escaped  the  gen- 
eral massacre  only  through  the  fidelity  of  their  slaves,  the 
little  Eugenie  being  miraculously  preserved  by  her  nurse. 

These  insurrections  occurring  frequently,  the  inhabi- 
tants were  kept  in  constant  dread.  Mother  Xavier, 
speaking  of  her  young  life,  often  said  she  was  a  child  of 
revolution.  In  a  subsequent  outbreak,  her  father,  one 
of  the  best  and  kindest  of  masters,  was  poisoned  by  a 
favorite  servant.  Then  the  surviving  members  of  the 
family  left  the  island  for  New  Orleans,  where,  at  the 
age  of  seventeen,  she  became  the  wife  of  Captain  Clark. 
Soon  after  her  mother  died,  and  Madam  Clark  removed 
with  her  husband  to  New  York.  There  she  often  met 
her  own  servants  in  the  streets.  At  nineteen  she  was 
left  a  widow,  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land.  Then  she 
became  acquainted  with  a  most  excellent,  pious  French 
lady,  who  soon  became  a  sincere  and  special  friend. 

One  day,  in  the  parlor  of  this  friend,  Madam  D.,  she 
picked  up  a  Testament,  and  began  to  read.  A  sudden 
light  flashed  upon  her  mind,  and,  like  St.  Paul,  she  cried 
out,  "  Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have  me  to  do  ?  " 

She  was  ready  for  every  good  work.  Being  requested 
to  join  the  choir  of  St.  Peter's  Church,  she  was  too 
happy  to  consecrate  to  the  praise  of  God  that  exquisite 
voice  that  had  been  so  much  admired,  which  might  be 
compared  to  the  warbling  of  birds,  in  its  rich,  sweet 
melody.  (At  this  time  Madame  D.  had  engaged  the 
young  widow  to  assist  in  her  academy,  which  was  the 
first  in  New  York.)  Many  years  after  her  entrance  into 
the  community,  her  vocal  powers  were  a  source  of  pleas- 
ure to  all.  Mother  Rose,  whose  heart  was  so  alive  to 
pious  emotions,  would  sometimes  say  to  those  around  her 


MRS.    X.    A.    BETOR.  441 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  a  voice  so  full  of  piety  and  unction 
as  Sister  M.  Xavier's?" 

Mother  Xavier's  beautiful  and  eventful  life  would  fill 
volumes.  It  is  preserved  in  the  annals  of  the  com- 
munity ;  but,  as  our  space  is  limited,  we  cannot  glean 
any  more  from  the  rich  field  which  it  presents.  "  She 
lived  the  life  of  a  saint,"  died  the  death  of  a  saint, 
and  now  shares  the  eternal  bliss  of  the  saints. 

During  her  administration,  which  lasted  six  years,  an 
orphan  asylum  and  hospital  were  commenced  in  Balti- 
more ;  in  the  same  city  the  domestic  department  of  St. 
Mary's  College,  and  that  of  St.  John's  College  at  Ford- 
ham,  N.  Y.,  were  placed  under  the  charge  of  sisters ; 
an  asylum  and  school  were  established  at  Mobile;  a 
preparatory  school  for  young  boys  about  a  mile  from 
Emmettsburg ;  an  asylum  and  school  at  Cincinnati ;  an 
asylum  and  two  schools  at  St.  Louis ;  an  asylum  and 
school  at  Washington  city;  an  asylum  and  school  at 
Donaldsonville,  and  a  hospital  at  Detroit. 

In  1841,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hickey,  Superior-General  of  the 
sisterhood,  resigned  his  office,  and  was  succeeded  by  the 
Very  Rev.  Mr.  Deluol,  of  St.  Mary's  Seminary,  Balti- 
more. About  the  time  of  his  accession  to  the  govern- 
ment of  the  society,  it  lost  one  of  its  earliest  and  most 
efficient  members  in  the  person  of  Sister  Rose  White, 
whose  name  has  been  already  mentioned.  Her  sterling 
qualities,  particularly  her  firmness  and  prudence  in  gov- 
erning others,  without  losing  their  confidence  and  affec- 
tion, may  be  estimated  from  the  fact  of  her  having  been 
appointed  to  the  charge  of  the  first  two  institutions  that 
were  undertaken  abroad  by  the  sisters  of  St.  Joseph ; 
and  also  from  the  circumstance  of  her  having  been 
elected,  as  often  as  she  was  eligible,  to  the  office  of 
Mother-Superior.  She  was  employed  at  different  in- 


442  THE    LIFE    Of 

tervals  in  several  other  situations,  and  lastly  at  Fred 
erick  City,  where  she  became  sister-servant  soon  after 
her  retirement  from  the  superiorship  in  1839.  Though 
she  usually  looked  well,  her  bodily  sufferings  had  been 
great  for  several  years,  but  did  not  prevent  her  from 
devoting  herself  without  reserve  to  numerous  and  fatigu- 
ing duties.  After  her  arrival  in  Frederick,  her  health 
rapidly  declined,  and  at  length  she  sank  under  the 
violence  of  a  bilious  affection  on  the  25th  of  July,  1841. 
The  death  of  Sister  Rose  was  deeply  felt  by  all  who 
knew  her,  especially  by  the  members  of  the  community 
to  which  she  belonged,  whose  grief  was  only  soothed  by 
the  recollection  of  her  many  virtues,  and  the  hope  that 
she  would  remember  them  in  heaven.  During  a  long 
time,  her  maternal  heart  was  sorely  tried  by  severe  do- 
mestic afflictions ;  yet  they  always  found  her  resigned  to 
the  will  of  God,  and,  however  painful  the  circumstance, 
her  countenance  rarely  betrayed  the  emotions  of  her 
soul.  Many  pages  might  be  filled  with  the  narrative 
of  her  patience  and  submission  under  the  sufferings 
which  she  had  to  endure;  the  great  confidence  which 
she  manifested  in  Divine  Providence ;  her  tender  devo- 
tion to  the  Mother  of  God ;  and  her  unbounded  charity 
and  zeal  for  the  orphan  and  the  poor.  She  was  a  lady 
of  the  most  engaging  manners,  with  the  sweetest  temper, 
and  a  heart  overflowing  with  goodness.  Ever  mindful 
of  her  obligations  as  a  Sister  of  Charity,  she  was  full  ^f 
piety,  faithful  to  her  rule,  and  an  example  of  every  virtue 
to  those  around  her ;  yet  she  was  always  cheerful,  amia- 
ble, and  kind.  She  possessed  the  secret  of  winning 
hearts;  every  scholar  under  her  care  loved  her  as  a 
mother.  To  the  sisters,  her  associates,  she  was  equally 
endeared.  Often,  during  the  hours  of  recreation,  did 
•he  entertain  them  with  the  most  interesting  details  of 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  443 

the  labors  and  privations  which  had  been  undergone  at 
the  commencement  of  the  sisterhood;  and  with  the 
stores  of  her  retentive  memory  and  her  happy  flow  of 
words,  she  could  rivet  the  delighted  attention  of  her 
hearers  by  these  allusions  to  their  early  history.  Sister 
Rose  was  called  to  her  reward  a  few,  weeks  after  the 
death  of  one  of  her  dearest  and  most  valued  friends, 
the  Rt.  Rev.  John  B.  David,  coadjutor  of  the  Bishop  of 
Bardstown.  He  had  been  her  spiritual  director  before 
her  connection  with  the  sisterhood,  and  he  was  after- 
wards the  second  Superior-General  of  the  society.  In 
their  correspondence,  they  had  mutually  edified  each 
other  by  dwelling  on  the  anticipation  of  the  pleasure 
which  friends,  bound  together  in  this  life  by  the  ties  of 
virtue,  will  experience  in  meeting  hereafter  in  heaven ; 
and  now  they  were  both  summoned,  within  a  brief  in- 
terval, to  meet  before  God,  who  had  been  the  common 
object  of  their  ardent  love  and  fondest  hope.  It  may 
not  be  uninteresting  or  uninstructive  to  those  whom 
Sister  Rose  has  left  behind  her,  to  know  the  sentiments 
which  she  and  her  distinguished  friend  entertained  on 
this  subject.  He  thus  writes  to  her,  January  14,  1835 : 
"Your  old  father  receives  with  a  grateful  heart  your 
amiable  salutation  and  the  expression  of  your  kind 
wishes  in  the  beginning  of  this  new  year.  O  truly,  if 
there  is  a  time  for  spiritual  friends,  that  is  to  say,  souls 
united  together  in  our  blessed  Jesus,  to  form  those  char- 
itable wishes  for  one  another,  it  is  when  these  revolu- 
tions of  years  admonish  them  of  the  rapid  approach  of 
that  blessed  eternity  towards  which  they  are  hastening 
together.  Truly,  my  beloved  daughter,  next  to  the  de- 
sire we  ought  to  entertain  of  being  soon  united  forever 
to  the  sovereign  object  of  our  love,  that  of  being  united 
to  our  dear  friends  ought  to  be  uppermost.  The  same 


444  TUB    LIFK    Of 

reflection  now  occurs  to  my  mind,  which  you  expressed 
in  the  letter  I  received  from  you,  when  last  at  St, 
Joseph's  Valley,  from  Washington :  '  that,  if  we  enjoy 
so  great  a  pleasure  in  seeing  our  dear  friends  from 
whom  we  had  been  long  separated,  even  in  this  vale  of 
tears,  though  only  for  a  short  while,  and  with  the  sad 
necessity  of  parting  again  soon  from  them :  what  will 
that  pleasure  be  when  we  meet  in  heaven  ? '  The  same 
reflection,  I  say,  now  occurs  to  my  mind.  If  we  feel 
such  satisfaction  now,  in  thinking  of  that  happy  eter- 
nity in  the  company  of  our  dear  friends,  what  will  it 
be  when  we  find  our  desire  realized  ?  If  the  anticipa- 
tion is  so  sweet,  what  will  be  the  moment  of  the  reunion, 
a  reunion  that  is  never  to  end  ?  It  seems  to  me,  that 
the  sweetness  of  that  anticipation  comes  from,  the  spir- 
itual union  which  actually  unites  us  together  in  our 
beloved  centre.  That  sweetness  flows  from  the  love  of 
Jesus,  to  whom  we  are  really  united  by  divine  charity 
and  the  holy  communion,  so  that  we  may,  even  in  this 
life,  really  find  one  another  in  that  sanctuary  of  divine 
love,  and  already  begin  that  enjoyment  which  will  be 
consummated  when  we  meet  in  heaven.  So  that  we 
begin  here  the  song  which  we  shall  continue  to  sing 
during  eternity;  'behold  how  good  and  how  pleasant 
it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity!'  Blessed 
unity !  one  with  God,  and  one  together ;  all  consummated 
in  one,  as  our  blessed  Saviour  asked  of  his  Father  after 
his  last  supper.  O  what  encouragement,  especially  for 
those  who  are  favored  with  the  happy  call  to  live  in  a 
religious  community,  to  entertain  among  themselves  the 
bond  of  charity  and  perfect  unity  I  Let  us  then  cherish 
now  that  blessed  union ;  let  us  make  every  effort  to  ad- 
vance in  that  holy  exercise  of  love.  This  season  invites 
to  "L  let  us  be  very  assiduous  in  that  stable,  at  tiie 


MBS.    X.    A.    SETON.  440 

foot  of  that  manger,  at  the  knee  of  our  holy  Mother, 
holding  in  her  arms  the  Divine  Babe,  shivering  with 
cold,  yet  a  furnace  of  love ;  shedding  tears,  yet  filling 
with  joy  the  hearts  that  love  him.  How  he  loves  us 
and  offers  himself  for  us!  How  he  hastens  to  show  that 
love,  by  shedding  already  his  blood  in  his  circumcision, 
and  giving  us  a  pledge  that  he  will  shed  the  whole  of 
it,  by  taking  the  sacred  name  of  Jesus !  O  that  this 
sweet  name  should  be  deeply  engraved  in  our  hearts  I 
What  heavenly  balm  it  would  pour  into  all  the  powers 
of  our  soul  I  How  happy  should  we  be,  if  we  had  nothing 
in  our  mind  but  Jesus;  nothing  in  our  memory  but 
Jesus;  in  our  will  but  Jesus;  in  our  imagination  but 
Jesus!  Jesus  should  be  everywhere  in  us,  and  we 
everywhere  in  Jesus.  Let  us  pronounce  often  ^  that 
adorable,  amiable,  salutary  name.  But  how  shall  we  be 
able  to  pronounce  it  as  we  ought  ?  St.  Paul  assures  us, 
that  no  one  can  say,  'Lord  Jesus/  but  in  the  Holy 
Ghost,  that  is,  by  the  impulse  of  divine  love.  Ah,  it 
would  require  a  tongue  of  fire  to  pronounce  it  worthily. 
Let  us  beg  our  holy  Mother,  who  was  the  first  to  pro- 
nounce it  in  this  world,  and  so  often  repeated  it  with  in« 
expressible  love  and  delight,  to  teach  us  how  to  pro- 
nounce it  well  and  often." <4J) 

Although  two  spacious  edifices  had  been  erected  to 
meet  the  wants  of  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood  and  academy, 
the  increasing  prosperity  of  the  institution  rendered  it 
necessary  to  provide  additional  room.  For  this  purpose, 
a  large  building,  fifty-seven  by  sixty-nine  feet,  and  three 
stories  high,  was  commenced  in  1841,  connecting  with  the 
eastern  extremity  of  the  academy  and  running  at  right 
angles  with  it  in  a  southern  direction.  It  is  surmounted 
with  a  cupola  and  belvedere,  which  command  one  of  the 
most  extensive  and  delightful  prospects  that  can  greet 
M 


446  THE    LIVE    0V 

the  eye.  Having  mentioned  the  different  buildings  a]> 
propriated  to  scholastic  purposes,  we  shall  briefly  state 
the  particular  uses  of  each.  The  main  edifice  is  distrib- 
uted into  rooms  for  recitation,  the  cabinet  of  natural 
sciences,  the  library,  dormitories,  etc.,  and  in  the  lowest 
story  are  the  important  arrangements  of  the  culinary 
department.  Another  building  in  the  rear,  contains  the 
refectory,  infirmary,  bathing  establishment,  and  a  large 
hall  for  drawing,  painting  and  embroidery.  The  last 
mentioned  edifice  has  three  grand  divisions :  a  study- 
room,  a  hall  for  public  exhibitions,  and  one  for  the  exer- 
cises of  vocal  and  instrumental  music. 

A  few  years  after  its  erection,  in  1844,  another  exten- 
sive structure  was  undertaken,  for  the  exclusive  accom- 
modation of  the  sisters  and  novices,  and  was  completed 
in  little  more  than  twelve  months,  having  been  occupied 
in  September,  1845.  It  stands  east  and  west,  connecting 
the  academy  and  the  chapel,  with  lateral  projections  to 
the  south,  inclosing  on  three  sides  a  court-yard  seventy 
feet  by  forty  in  extent.  The  new  residence  of  the  sisters 
is  two  hundred  and  thirty-two  feet  in  developed  length, 
and  forty  in  width,  with  two  stories  and  a  roomy  attic, 
and  is  constructed  of  brick  and  cut  stone,  colored  of  a 
light  slate  or  gray.  It  is  after  the  conventual  style  of 
the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries,  with  embattled 
parapets ;  high-pitched  roof  with  dormers,  surmounted 
by  a  belfry  thirty  feet  high ;  the  windows  of  the  second 
story  square,  with  transom  forming  a  cross ;  the  lower 
windows  mullioned  with  hood-moulds ;  the  lateral  walls 
broken  by  buttresses  ;  and  with  porches  to  the  first  and 
second  stories,  running  along  the  north  wall.  The  build- 
ing is  truly  Catholic  in  its  external  appearance.  It  was 
designed  and  its  erection  superintended  by  a  gentleman 
who  has  given  much  attention  to  the  study  of  Christian 


MRS.    E.    A.    8ETON.  447 

architecture.*  The  interior  parts  of  the  edifice  are  well 
adapted  to  their  sacred  uses.  The  lower  and  second 
stories  are  severally  fourteen  feet  in  height.  On  the  first 
is  a  cloister  running  around  the  entire  court-yard  and 
communicating  with  the  chapel,  and  also  the  public 
rooms  for  the  use  of  the  community,  among  them  the 
superior's  apartment  and  chapter-room.  The  other  sto- 
ries are  occupied  as  dormitories,  and  for  the  infirmary, 
refectory  and  other  purposes,  f 

Shortly  before  the  occupation  of  this  building  by 
the  community,  Sister  Mary  Etienne  Hall  was  elected 
Mother-Superior,  July  21st,  1845.  During  this  same 
year  the  white  house,  which  had  been  originally  built  for 
the  purposes  of  the  institution,  and  which  for  some  time 
had  been  used  exclusively  by  the  sisters,  was  removed  to 
another  location,  northwest  of  the  chapel,  in  order  to 
make  room  for  the  larger  edifice  just  described,  and  was 
converted  into  an  orphan  asylum.  The  first  and  darling 
wish  of  Mother  Seton  was  to  serve  the  poor  and  the 
helpless  ;  and  it  has  so  happened  that  the  first  building 
erected  for  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  which  formerly 
served  for  the  combined  objects  of  sisterhood  and  acad- 
emy, is  now  appropriated  exclusively  to  the  support  and 
education  of  the  destitute  orphan.  About  forty  children 
are  occupants  of  this  neat  and  venerable  house,  under 
the  immediate  care  of  the  sisters,  and  enjoy  every  facility 
for  obtaining  the  benefits  of  a  solid  and  religious  educa- 
tion. Such  of  them  as  evince  a  particular  talent,  are 
taught  those  branches  which  will  qualify  them  for  the 
office  of  governess. 

Actuated  by  a  sense  of  grateful  veneration  for  Mother 
Beton,  the  government  of  the  sisterhood  lias  erected  a 

•  Eugene  Giraud,  Esq. 

f  U.  S.  Catholic  Magaiine,  vol.  v.,  p.  221 ;  vol.  vi.,  p.  497. 


448  THE    LIFE    Of 

handsome  marble  monument  over  her  remains,  which 
was  commenced  in  1845.  Its  plan  and  decorations  are  in 
the  Gothic  style.  On  the  front,  facing  the  south,  is  the  in- 
scription, "  To  the  memory  of  E.  A.  Seton,  Foundress ;"  on 
the  west  side  are  the  words,  "  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the 
Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints;"*  on  the  east,  "The  just 
shall  live  in  everlasting  remembrance ;"  f  and  on  the 
north,  "  The  just  shall  shine  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom 
of  their  Father."  |  On  the  grounds  in  front  of  the 
academy,  another  structure  has  arisen,  a  monument  of 
youthful  piety  and  virtue.  It  is  a  small  Gothic  oratory, 
in  the  pointed  style,  erected  in  1845,  by  contributions 
from  some  of  the  former  pupils  of  the  academy,  who 
requested  at  the  same  time  that  it  should  be  called  "  The 
Chapel  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Valley."  As  soon  as  it  was 
commenced,  the  resident  scholars  seconded  the  design, 
and  they  still  continue  their  offerings  for  its  adornment. 
Its  interior  arrangements  and  decorations  are  splendidly 
beautiful,  and  reflect  high  honor  upon  the  gratitude  and 
piety  of  the  Catholic  pupils  who  erected  and  who  now 
adorn  this  elegant  shrine  of  our  Blessed  Lady.  Besides 
these  improvements  at  the  Mother-house,  much  has  been 
done  within  a  few  years  past  to  enhance  the  appearance 
of  the  place,  by  the  planting  of  trees,  and  laying  off  the 
premises  in  a  tasteful  manner  and  attractive  to  the  eye. 

Since  Mother  Etienne  has  been  superior  of  the  society, 
the  following  important  establishments  have  been  under- 
taken abroad:  a  school  at  Baltimore;  an  orphan  asylum 
at  Wilmington,  Del.;  an  orphan  asylum  and  two  schools 
at  Albany ;  an  asylum,  school  and  hospital  at  Troy ;  an 
asylum,  school  and  hospital  at  Buffalo;  an  asylum  and 
Bchool  at  Detroit;  an  asylum  and  infirmary  at  Milwaukee; 

•  PnJm  116.  |  i>salm  m-  i  Matth.  ziii.  43. 


MRS.    E.    A     BET  ON.  449 

an  asylum  and  school  at  Natchez ;  a  hospital  at  Donald- 
sonville ;  an  asylum  and  school  at  Norfolk ;  a  school  at 
Boston;  a  school  at  St.  Louis,  an  asylum  in  the  same 
city  for  more  advanced  orphans,  who  are  taught  trades  ; 
and  also  an  asylum  for  poor  girls  who  are  out  of  a  situa- 
tion, where  they  are  provided  with  work  until  they  find 
a  suitable  employment.  Of  the  establishments  under  the 
charge  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  Mount  Hope  Institution 
at  Baltimore,  chiefly  for  the  insane,  may  be  mentioned  as 
one  of  the  principal,  and  as  an  instance  of  their  munifi- 
cent and  devoted  labors  in  behalf  of  their  suffering 
fellow-creatures.  This  property  is  owned  by  the  sisters, 
who,  since  the  purchase  of  it  in  1844,  have  made  most 
extensive  additions  to  the  buildings,  and  such  alterations 
as  have  enabled  them  to  introduce  all  the  latest  improve- 
ments for  the  benefit  and  comfort  of  the  patients.  The 
institution  stands  on  an  eminence  which  commands  an 
extensive  view  of  the  adjacent  country.  The  adjoining 
grounds  have  been  laid  off  with  special  reference  to  the 
good  of  the  afflicted  individuals  who  live  in  the  house. 
Its  interior  arrangements  are  also  particularly  directed 
to  promote  their  welfare ;  the  rooms  are  spacious  and 
airy,  the  walls  are  relieved  with  paintings  and  other 
objects  calculated  to  attract  attention  and  divert  the 
mind ;  in  a  word,  the  whole  establishment  presents  more 
the  appearance  of  an  abode  of  domestic  ease  and  refine- 
ment, than  of  an  institution  forbidding  and  repulsive  in 
its  character.  In  regard  to  the  moral  treatment  of  the 
insane,  the  whole  system  may  be  said  to  consist  in  kind- 
ness and  employment.  The  latter  is  necessary  to  divert 
the  mind  of  the  patient  from  its  morbid  delusions,  while 
the  former  is  equally  so  to  consult  at  all  times  his  comfort 
and  advantage.  In  this  respect,  houses  for  the  insane 
under  the  direction  of  the  sisters  are  peculiarly  blessed* 
!»•  2  u 


450  THE    LIFX    01 

Kinuness  and  benevolence  are  the  direct  fruits  of  that 
charity  which  they  profess,  and  cannot  be  found  in  the 
same  degree  in  uneducated  hirelings.  "  But  it  is  also 
highly  important,"  says  Dr.  Stokes,  "that  besides  the 
possession  of  these  rare  qualities,  the  attendants  should 
be  familiar  with  the  habits  and  manners  of  respectable 
life.  Can  any  greater  injury  be  inflicted  on  a  sensitive 
female  lunatic,  for  example, — one  heretofore  accustomed 
to  good  society, — than  to  find  herself,  on  her  recovery, 
limited  to  the  companionship  of  a  common  attendant  ? 
Can  anything  be  conceived  better  calculated  to  disgust 
and  increase  the  excitement  of  a  convalescent  of  refined 
and  tender  feelings,  than  to  be  subjected  to  the  rude  and 
jocose  familiarity,  or,  it  may  be,  the  rougher  behavior  of 
low  and  ignorant  keepers  ?  Sir  William  Ellis  well  re- 
marks, '  a  wife,  a  sister  or  a  daughter  exhibits  an  altera- 
tion in  manner  which  indicates  the  existence  of  diseased 
action  in  the  brain — there  is  a  morbid  sensitiveness  of 
feeling — it  is  essential  that  she  should  at  once  be  taken 
from  her  home  and  intrusted  to  strangers.  Can  any  one 
doubt  the  advantage  of  securing  as  her  companion  a 
lady  of  tender  feelings,  of  refined  and  cultivated  mind, 
and  who  has  such  an  acquaintance  with  the  disease  as 
to  enable  her  carefully  and  judiciously  to  apply,  under 
the  direction  of  a  professional  man,  proper  medical  and 
moral  treatment?  Is  there  a  husband,  a  father  or  a 
brother,  who  would  not  hail  as  a  benefactress,  a  female 
BO  endowed,  who  would  take  the  charge  of  his  relation?' 
In  the  sisters  we  have  found  associated  a  combination  of 
qualities  admirably  adapting  them  for  this  responsible 
and  delicate  duty.  By  their  exalted  piety,  by  their  con- 
trolling sense  of  responsibility  to  the  all-seeing  God,  by 
their  refined  taste  and  cultivated  minds,  they  possess  the 
very  attributes  most  necessary  to  constitute  faithful,  effi- 


MRS.   8.   A.   BBTOH.  451 

cient  and  skilful  attendants  on  the  insane.  In  a  word, 
they  possess,  in  an  eminent  degree,  all  those  endowments 
of  the  mind  and  heart,  requisite  to  insure  the  fulfilment 
of  all  the  requirements  of  that  law  of  humanity  and  kind- 
ness, which  should  be  the  pervading  genius  of  every 
lunatic  asylum."*  Though  the  insane  constitute  the 
greater  portion  of  those  who  are  received  at  Mt.  Hope, 
other  patients  suffering  from  general  diseases  are  also 
admitted.  Many  indigent  persons  likewise  enjoy  the 
benefits  of  the  institution,  living  on  its  bounty  without 
making  any  compensation  in  return.  From  the  last  re- 
port of  the  institution,  for  the  year  1851,  we  learn  that 
there  are  twenty  charity  patients  in  the  house.  The 
same  document  informs  us,  that  "  the  whole  number  of 
persons  who  in  nine  years  have  sought  to  avail  them- 
selves of  the  benefits  of  this  institution,  laboring  either 
under  some  form  of  mental  malady,  or  of  mania  a  potu, 
or  of  some  kind  of  general  disease,  has  been  two  thou- 
sand and  forty-eight.  Of  this  number,  one  thousand 
two  hundred  and  three  have  undergone  treatment  in  the 
department  for  the  insane,  and  eight  hundred  and  forty- 
five  in  the  department  for  general  diseases.  Of  the 
above  aggregate  number,  there  have  been  discharged  one 
thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty-eight — of  which 
number  one  thousand  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  have 
recovered,  eighty-six  have  died,  and  five  hundred  and 
seventy-seven  have  been  discharged  in  various  condi- 
tions, some  greatly  improved  in  health  and  habits,  and 
others  as  harmless  and  incurable."  During  the  year 
1851,  the  whole  number  of  patients  treated  in  the  house, 
was  three  hundred  and  seventeen,  of  whom  seventy-nine 
were  in  the  department  of  general  diseases,  f 

•  U.  3.  Catholic  Magaiine,  rol.  rL,  18 47,  p.  489.        |  Appeiiix  0. 


453  THE  LIFE  or 

Among  the  institutions  which  have  been  mentioned 
in  the  preceding  pages,  as  having  been  conducted  by 
the  Sisters  of  Charity,  several  have  been  discontinued, 
and  others  have  ceased  to  be  under  their  direction, 
owing  to  various  circumstances  which  rendered  it  ex- 
pedient, in  the  judgment  of  superiors,  that  the  services 
of  the  sisters  should  be  withdrawn.  Pay-schools  and 
other  institutions,  which  were  undertaken  by  the  sisters 
years  ago,  when  urgent  reasons  seemed  to  require  this 
modification  of  their  rule,  have  in  a  great  measure  been 
abolished,  as  these  reasons  in  many  cases  no  longer  exist. 
It  has  been  thought  advisable,  by  such  reforms,  to  give 
to  the  operations  of  the  society,  as  much  as  possible, 
that  sphere  and  direction  which  belong  to  the  congrega- 
tion established  by  St.  Vincent  of  Paul.  This  policy 
was  the  more  necessary,  as  a  union  with  this  congrega- 
tion was  earnestly  desired  and  fondly  expected  by  the 
sisterhood  at  Emmettsburg.  The  most  important  event 
connected  with  the  recent  history  of  the  society  in  this 
country,  is  undoubtedly  its  incorporation  into  that  an- 
,  cient  and  venerable  congregation  which  has  existed  for 
upwards  of  two  hundred  years.  We  have  seen  that 
from  the  very  commencement  of  the  community  at 
Emmettsburg,  a  colony  of  French  sisters  was  expected 
to  aid  and  initiate  it  in  the  practice  of  the  rules.  Since 
that  time  frequent  applications  were  made,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  effecting  a  union  between  the  society  in  France 
and  that  in  the  United  States;  but  they  were  always 
unsuccessful,  until  a  similar  petition  was  more  recently 
presented  in  the  spring  of  1849,  by  an  American  pre- 
late, at  the  request  of  the  Superior-General,  the  Very 
Kev.  Mr.  Deluol,  and  with  the  approbation  of  the  Most 
Bev.  Archbishop  of  Baltimore.  The  following  summer, 
a  still  more  explicit  letter  of  application  was  presented 


MBS.    K.    A.    BETON.  453 

by  the  superiors,  through  the  Rev.  Mariano  Mailer,  who 
at  that  time  was  on  a  visit  to  Europe.  When  he  re- 
turned to  America,  in  the  month  of  October,  he  was  the 
bearer  of  an  answer  favorable  to  the  request  of  the  sis- 
terhood at  Emmettsburg.  Shortly  after,  Mr.  Deluol  re- 
signed the  office  of  Superior-General,  and  at  his  request 
Mr.  Mailer  entered  upon  its  duties  as  a  provisional  sub- 
stitute. At  that  time  the  union  with  the  society  in 
France  was  not  complete ;  but  it  was  fully  established 
on  the  25th  of  March,  1850,  when  the  sisters  in  this 
country  renewed  their  vows  with  that  formula  which 
is  used  by  the  society  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul.  Since 
that  period  several  members  of  St.  Joseph's  community 
have  visited  Europe,  to  obtain  an  insight  into  the  spirit 
which  prevails  there  among  their  associates.  The  fol- 
lowing year,  on  the  8th  of  December,  the  feast  of  the 
immaculate  conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  the 
sisters  at  Emmettsburg  assumed  the  habit  which  is  com- 
mon to  those  in  France,  and  which  differs  much  from 
that  previously  used  in  this  country,  especially  in  the 
head-dress,  which  is  a  white  linen  bonnet  with  a  wide  pro- 
jection on  each  side.*  Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Joseph 
have  thus  become  associated,  by  a  holy  fellowship,  with 
the  Daughters  of  Charity,  servants  of  the  poor,  forming 
one  society  with  them,  having  the  same  constitutions, 
rules,  government  and  spirit.  Thus  also  have  the  mem- 
bers of  the  respective  sisterhoods  in  America  and  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  mutually  drawn  up»n  them- 
selves and  upon  their  charitable  labors  an  immense  in- 
crease of  heavenly  blessing,  by  the  additional  prayers 
and  services  that  are  now  enlisted  in  the  same  cause. 

•  This  head- Jresi  in  French  is  called  cornette,  and  ia  nearly  the  same 
M  that  first  worn  by  the  Daughters  of  Charity,  after  their  institution 
Vy  8t  Vincent  of  PaoL 


454  THE  LIFE  or 

The  society  throughout  the  world  embraces  nearly  one 
thousand  institutions,  which  are  generally  houses  of 
charity,  viz. :  hospitals,  almshouses,  orphan  asylums,  free 
schools,  industrial  schools,  etc.  The  number  of  sisters  in 
these  different  establishments  throughout  the  world  ex- 
ceeds twenty-five  thousand  and  thirty  (25,030).  In  this 
country  they  form  a  province,  which  has  an  ecclesiastical 
superior,  the  Rev.  Mariano  Mailer,  under  the  title  of 
"  Director  of  the  Daughters  of  Charity,"  and  a  chief 
sister  whose  title  is  "Visitatrix  of  the  Daughters  of 
Charity,"  and  who  is  also  local  superior  of  the  central 
house  at  Emmettsburg.* 

Rev.  Mariano  Mailer  was  eminently  fitted  for  the  posi- 
tion of  director  of  the  sisters.  His  clear  discernment  in 
the  guiding  of  souls  was  remarkable,  and  his  charity  and 
untiring  zeal  gave  the  promise  that  he  would  direct  the 
American  province  for  many  years,  at  least  until  the 
new  order  of  things  would  be  properly  established.  Prov- 
idence designed  otherwise.  In  the  March  of  1853,  he 
was  removed  to  Brazil,  S.  America,  where  he  acted  as 
visitor  and  director  to  the  two  families  of  St.  Vincent  in 
that  province.  This  transfer  was  made  by  the  Superior- 
General  in  Paris,  Very  Rev.  J.  B.  Etienne,  who  at  the 
same  time  appointed  Rev.  Francis  Burlando  director  of 
the  sisters  in  the  United  States. 

Mother  Etienne  Hall,  after  filling  the  office  of  Mother 
and  Visitatrix  for  ten  years,  was  replaced  by  Mother 
Regina  Smith,  who  had  presided  over  the  Charity  Hos- 
pital fer  upwards  of  twenty-four  years,  where  she  dis- 
played great  prudence,  firmness,  and  kindness  in  her 

•The  Superior-General  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Mission  or  Lai- 
•rists,  is  ex  offldo  Superior-General  of  the  Daughters  of  Charity ;  and 
hence  their  direction  ia  confided,  when  practicable,  to  a  clergyman  who 
if  »  Laiariat 


MBS.    E.    A.    SETOIT.  455 

difficult  position,  which  prepared  her  for  ihe  still  more 
responsible  one  of  visitatrix.  During  her  administra- 
tion, and  with  the  co-operation  and  wise  direction  of 
Father  Burlando,  the  community  increased  in  numbers, 
and  many  new  and  important  establishments  were  com- 
menced. Day-schools  were  opened  in  Baltimore,  Jef- 
ferson, La.;  La  Salle,  111. ;  Richmond,  Va. ;  Alton,  111.; 
Elmira,  N.  Y. ;  Detroit,  Mich. ;  Santa  Barbara,  Cal. ;  an 
infant  asylum  and  hospital  in  Philadelphia;  hospitals  in 
Milwaukee,  Mobile,  Rochester,  Norfolk ;  an  infant  asylum 
in  Baltimore ;  an  insane  institution  in  St.  Louis ;  an  institu- 
tion in  Bouligny,  La.,  etc.  Mother  Regina's  health  had 
been  on  the  decline  for  some  time,  and  in  the  year  1860  she 
resumed  the  charge  of  the  Charity  Hospital,  to  the  great 
joy  of  the  people  who  had  grieved  for  her  absence  of 
nearly  six  years.  But  a  brief  space  of  time  elapsed  after 
her  return  to  the  first  field  of  her  labors,  when  she  was 
called  to  her  reward  and  eternal  rest. 

Mother  Ann  Simeon,  who  had  filled  the  office  of 
Treasurer  of  the  Community,  was  appointed  by  the  supe- 
riors in  Paris  to  replace  Mother  Regina  as  Visitatrix. 
Having  been  a  member  of  the  council  at  the  Central 
House  in  the  United  States  for  many  years,  and  being 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  workings  of  the  com- 
munity— at  a  time,  too,  when  the  Republic  was  suffering 
from  the  sad  effects  of  the  civil  war — she  was  admirably 
adapted  to  fill  the  office  at  such  a  crisis.  Wisdom,  pru- 
deuce,  and  amiable  simplicity  of  manners  characterized 
her ;  besides  showing  a  great  business  tact,  her  apprecia- 
tion of  the  beauties  of  nature  and  literary  tastes (U>  were 
remarkable,  as  we  may  judge  from  her  correspondence, 
conversation,  and  some  spontaneous  effusions  from  her 
pen,  breathing  piety  and  a  singular  devotion  to  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  Many  and  various  works  of  charity 


456  THE  LIPJS  or 

were  commenced  during  her  administration.  Infirma- 
ries, civil  and  military  hospitals  were  opened  in  Rich- 
mond, Washington,  Alton,  111.,  Boston,  Baltimore,  Phila- 
delphia; an  institution  for  deaf  and  dumb;  an  insane 
asylum  in  Buffalo;  "Louisiana  Retreat"  in  Bouligny; 
"  Mt.  Hope  Retreat," <U)  near  Baltimore ;  infant  asylums 
in  Washington ;  industrial  and  educational  schools  were 
inaugurated  in  New  Orleans,  Washington,  Chicago,  San 
Francisco  and  San  Bautista,  Cal.,  Toronto,  Canada 
West,  Germantown,  Albany,  Lowell,  Mass.,  Virginia 
City,  Nevada ;  a  seminary  at  Los  Angeles,  Cal.  Mothor 
Ann  Simeon  died  January  16th,  1866,  and  was  replaced 
by  Mother  Euphemia  Blenkinsop,  the  present  visitatrix 
of  the  province  in  the  United  States. 

Besides  the  experience  of  a  mission  life,  Mother  Eu- 
phemia had  been  a  member  of  the  council,  and  assistant 
to  the  visitatrix  at  the  Central  House  for  upwards  of 
eleven  years,  so  that  she  was  fully  initiated  in  the  duties 
of  her  new  and  responsible  position.  Twelve  years  have 
elapsed  since  her  appointment  by  the  superiors  in  Paris, 
during  that  time  many  new  works  have  been  commenced 
and  many  events  have  occurred,  alternately  shading  and 
brightening  the  landscape.  Day-schools  were  opened  in 
Mobile  and  Whistler,  Ala.,  Keokuk,  Iowa,  Dedham, 
Mass.,  Chicago,  Richmond,  Natchez,  Petaluna,  Cal.,  St. 
Joseph,  Mo.,  Troy  and  Syracuse,  N.  Y.,  New  Orleans, 
Petersburg,  Staunton,  Portsmouth,  Va.,  Emmettsburg 
Village ;  infant  and  orphan  asylums  have  been  founded 
in  Boston,  Carrollton,  La.,  San  Francisco,  Cal.,  Jefferson, 
Texas,  Washington,  Reading,  Pa.,  Milwaukee,  Saginaw, 
Mich. ;  hospitals,  infirmaries  and  houses  of  providence 
for  aged  and  destitute  in  Chicago,  Lowell,  Mass.,  St. 
Joseph,  Mo.,  Detroit,  Evansville,  Ind.,  Syracuse,  Vir- 
ginia City,  Nevada,  Baltimore.  Many  improvement* 


MRS.    X.    A.    BXTON.  457 

have  been  made  at  St.  Joseph's  within  the  last  twelve 
years,  and  the  Central  House  has  attained  magnificent 
proportions,  by  the  erection  of  a  large  building  with 
mansard  roof,  a  belvedere  affording  an  extensive  view  of 
the  country,  and  with  all  modern  conveniences  of  gas 
and  steam.  The  interior  of  the  edifice  comprises  a  hand- 
somely frescoed  distribution  hall,  drawing  and  painting 
room,  a  cabinet  of  curiosities,  dormitories,  class-rooms, 
etc.  This  building,  which  connects  with  the  other  parts 
of  the  academy  by  wide  and  cheerful  corridors,  was 
planned  and  superintended  by  Rev.  Francis  Burlando, 
C.  M.,  who  for  twenty-five  years  had  given  his  services  to 
the  community,  first  as  chaplain,  afterwards  as  director 
and  local  superior  of  the  United  States  Province.  While 
the  spiritual  and  temporal  interests  of  the  community 
seemed  to  have  attained  a  most  happy  status  under 
the  wise  direction  of  Father  Burlando,  the  Valley  waa 
shrouded  in  grief  by  his  unlooked  for  death  from  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy,  which  occurred  on  Feb.  16th,  1873 ; 
sudden  it  was,  but  not  unprovided.  On  the  very  day  of 
his  death  he  offered  the  holy  sacrifice  at  the  usual  com- 
munity hour,  gave  a  sermon  at  the  second  mass,  and  pre- 
sided at  the  organ  during  vespers.  But  the  hand  of 
death  had  already  marked  his  victim,  and  before  the 
close  of  the  day  so  well  begun,  he  was  stricken  down  in 
the  midst  of  his  confreres  as  they  were  repairing  to  their 
domestic  chapel  for  prayers.  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who 
die  in  the  Lord,  for  they  rest  from  their  labors,  and  their 
works  follow  them."  His  death  was  a  sore  trial  to  the 
community  in  general,  who  mourned  his  loss  as  that  of  a 
father.  Father  Burlando  was  replaced  by  Rev.  Felix 
Gu&lry,  C.  M.,  from  Cape  Girardeau,  Mo.,  who,  being 
called  to  Niagara,  was  succeeded  in  office  by  the  present 


458  THE    LIFE    Of 

director,  Rev.  Alexis  Mandine,  C.  M.,  pastor  of  St.  8te- 
phen's  Church,  New  Orleans. 

The  rapid  and  varied  transition  of  events  at  this 
period  of  the  present  administration,  at  one  time  con- 
flicting, anon  cheering,  lends  interest  to  the  sketch,  as 
the  clare-obscure  gives  effect  to  the  picture.  The  death 
of  Rev.  Jean  B.  Etienne,  C.  M.,  Superior-General  of  the 
two  families  of  St.  Vincent  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlan- 
tic, reached  the  province  by  cable,  filling  the  hearts  of 
his  Western  children  with  gloom  for  the  loss  of  one  who 
had  so  efficiently  accomplished  the  duties  of  his  general- 
ship for  thirty-one  years.  In  a  short  time  after,  the  de- 
mise of  his  worthy  successor,  Rev.  Eugene  BorSe,  C.  M., 
was  announced.  Mother  Euphemia  had  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  both  during  her  visits  to  the  Mother- 
House  in  Paris,  and  was  happy  to  be  the  recipient  of 
their  confidence  and  wise  direction.  Rev.  Antoine  Fiat, 
C.  M.,  holds  at  present  the  weighty  responsibility  of 
Superior-General, 

In  the  year  1875,  the  Valley  was  brightened  and  hon- 
ored by  a  visit  from  His  Eminence  the  newly-created  Car- 
dinal McCloskey,  accompanied  by  the  Roman  prelates, 
twelve  bishops  and  archbishops  and  a  number  of  priests. 
The  reception  of  the  august  visitors  took  place  in  the  dis- 
tribution hall  of  the  academy;  the  pleasant  memories 
of  that  visit  will  form  a  delightful  page  in  the  annals 
of  the  community. 

Soon  after,  the  sickle  of  death  garnered  another  to  the 
matured  sheaves  of  his  granary.  Archbishop  Bayley 
of  Baltimore,  and  nephew  of  our  venerated  Mother 
Seton,  died  October  3d,  1877,  at  his  former  see  in  Newark, 
N.  J.  He  had  frequently  expressed  the  wish,  and  made 
the  formal  request,  to  be  buried  near  his  sainted  aunt  at 
Bt.  Joseph's.  Mother  Euphemia  had  the  modest  little 


MBS.    B.    A     BETON.  459 

monument  enlarged  and  remodeled,  to  be  in  readiness 
for  the  sad  occasion. 

In  the  evening  of  Oct.  9th,  1877,  when  the  autumn 
haze  was  gilded  by  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  the 
solemn  cortege  of  bishops,  priests,  and  representatives 
of  different  orders,  religious  and  secular,  with  a  number 
of  visitors  from  the  neighboring  cities,  alighted  from 
the  special  train  carrying  the  venerated  remains  of  the 
deceased  prelate.  The  procession  formed  in  the  avenue ; 
the  Miserere  was  chanted  by  hundreds  of  voices  until  it 
reached  the  monument  in  St.  Joseph's  cemetery,  where 
now  rests  all  that  is  earthly  of  the  good  bishop  in  the 
same  vault  with  his  sainted  aunt,  Mother  Seton. 

Another  event  that  was  the  source  of  joy  and  conso- 
lation to  the  community,  was  an  official  visit  made  by 
Rev.  Mariano  Mailer,  C.  M.,  the  first  director  in  this 
country  after  the  affiliation  to  the  Mother- House  in  Paris. 
As  has  been  previously  stated,  Father  Mailer  was  called 
to  other  fields  of  labor  in  Brazil  and  Spain  at  a  moment 
when  it  was  judged  that  his  services  were  indispensable 
in  the  United  States.  After  an  absence  of  twenty-four 
years,  his  return  was  hailed  as  special  Visitor  by  the 
two  families.  The  increase  of  numbers  and  works  of 
charity  was  most  gratifying  to  him,  as  he  was  deeply 
interested  in  the  American  Province/48'  After  a  sojourn 
of  several  months  in  the  United  States,  attending  to  the 
spiritual  interests  of  the  two  families,  he  returned  to 
Spain,  to  the  regret  of  both  families. 

Within  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years  the  Valley 
has  greatly  improved,  not  only  in  the  number  and  style 
of  buildings  erected,  but  in  its  surroundings,  which  re- 
semble a  vast  cultivated  garden,  relieved  by  devotional 
spots  throughout  the  grounds,  so  that  oue  could  make  a 
pious  pilgrimage  in  walking  through  its  shaded  avenues. 


460  THE    LIFE    OF    MBS.    E.    A.    8ETON. 

The  chapel  of  "Our  Lady  of  the  Valley,"  m  the 
academy  grounds,  has  been  renovated  through  the  gen- 
erous piety  of  former  pupils ;  a  shrine  in  a  grove  of  oaks, 
known  as  "  Our  Lady  of  the  Field,"  with  its  legend, 
guards  the  orchards  and  meadows;  a  rustic  chapel  of 
St.  Joseph ;  a  life-like  statue  of  St.  Vincent ;  "  Our 
Lady  of  Victory ; "  a  small  chapel  of  our  "  Lady  of 
Lourdes"  beautifully  frescoed,  shed  a  holy  influence 
around,  not  only  on  the  inmates  of  St.  Joseph's,  but  on  in- 
numerable visitors.  At  last  the  enclosed  little  cemetery 
in  the  woods  is  reached,  where,  in  the  middle  of  the 
silent  city  of  the  dead,  rises  the  white  memorial  chapel 
containing  the  remains  of  the  mitred  prelate,  the  marble 
slab  at  its  base  designating  the  last  resting-place  of  the 
late  Director,  Rev.  F.  Burlando,  and  Mother  Seton,  re- 
posing with  her  two  hundred  daughters,  awaiting  the 
final  day  when  the  spirit  will  again  reanimate  the  taber- 
nacle of  clay,  and  soul  and  body  will  rejoice  to  hear  the 
invitation  of  the  heavenly  spouse,  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of 
my  Father,  possess  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world." 


NOTES. 


(l)-p.  14. 

DR  BATLEY'S  father  was  of  a  good  family,  settled  near  Lynn- 
Regis  or  King's  Lynn,  Norfolk  county,  England.  He  came  to  Ame- 
rica on  a  travelling  tour  ;  but,  having  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a 
Miss  Lecomte,  of  a  Huguenot  family  at  New  Rochclle,  New  York, 
he  married  her,  and  remained  in  this  country. 

(2)-p.  20. 

The  Sctons  came  from  Scotland,  and  are  descended  from  the 
family  of  the  Lords  Seton,  now  represented  by  the  Earl  of  Winton. 
Mr.  William  Seton,  whose  son  married  Miss  Bayley,  was  the  first 
cashier  of  the  Bank  of  New  York  after  its  organization,  —  a  post  to 
which  he  was  appointed  notwithstanding  his  well-known  partiality 
for  the  English  cause.  Mr.  Brissot  de  Warville  (Travels  in  the  United 
States,  1788,  considers  this  circumstance  an  evidence  of  the  high 
reputation  which  he  enjoyed  for  integrity.  Mr.  Seton  was  also  dis- 
tinguished as  a  man  of  education  and  of  elevated  and  generous  cha- 
racter. He  was  on  terms  of  friendship  with  Talleyrand-Perigord, 
Mr.  Otis,  and  other  great  men  of  the  times.  To  him  also  Monsieur 
de  Crevecoeur  addressed  his  letters,  which  are  known  under  the  title 
of  "  Lettres  d'un  Cultivateur  Am&icain,"  8  Tola.  8vo 


The  following  portraiture  is  to  be  found  among  Mrs.  Seton's  pa- 
pers, in  her  own  handwriting,  and  most  probably  refers  to  her  father. 

"  His  voice  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  cheer  the  desponding  and  en- 
courage  the  trembling  sufferer  who  shrinks  with  fastidious  delicacy 
from  any  of  th  ?  remedies  of  the  healing  art.  Nor  is  its  influence 
89  *  461 


462  NOTES. 

less  salutary  to  the  being  who,  shaken  by  the  tempests  of  the  worli, 
yet  straggles  to  brave  them  and  support  a  claim  to  reason  and  for- 
titude. Nature  has  endowed  him  with  that  quick  sensibility  by 
which,  without  any  previous  study,  he  enters  into  every  character ; 
and  the  tender  interest  he  takes  in  the  mind's  pains  as  well  as  the 
body's,  soon  unlocks  its  inmost  recesses  to  his  view  and  fits  it  to 
receive  the  species  of  consolation  best  adapted  to  its  wants.  It  may 
be  said  of  him,  as  of  the  celebrated  and  unfortunate  Zimmerman, 
that  he  never  visited  a  patient  without  making  a  friend."  This  out- 
line of  character,  drawn  by  the  pen  of  Mrs.  Seton,  is  not  less  credit- 
able to  her  as  an  elegant  writer  than  honorable  to  her  father  as  a 
distinguished  ornament  of  the  medical  profession  in  Am  ji '•••*. 

(4)— p.  102. 

Mrs.  Seton  thus  describes,  in  a  letter,  the  last  hour  she  passed  in 
Leghorn : — "  Oh,  think  how  this  heart  trembles !  Mrs.  Filicchi  came, 
when  the  stars  were  yet  bright,  to  say  we  would  go  to  mass,  and  she 
would  there  part  with  her  Antonio.  Oh  the  admirable  woman !  As 
we  entered  the  church,  the  cannon  of  the  Piamingo,  which  would 
carry  us  to  America,  gave  the  signal  to  be  on  board  in  two  hours. 
My  Saviour!  My  God!  Antonio  and  his  wife — their  separation  in 
God  and  communion!  Poor  I,  not!  But  did  I  not  beg  him  to  give 
me  their  faith,  and  promise  him  ALL  in  return  for  such  a  gift? 
Little  Anna  and  I  had  only  strange  tears  of  joy  and  grief.  We  leave 
but  dear  ashu.  The  last  adieu  of  Mr.  Filicchi,  as  the  sun  rose  full 
on  the  balcony  where  we  stood,  and  the  last  signal  of  our  ship  for 
our  parting,  shall  I  ever  forget?  Now,  poor  Antonio  is  tearing 
away,  and  I  hastening  to  you  and  my  angels." 

In  the  statement  here  made  by  Mrs.  Seton, — that  she  prayed  to  ob- 
tain the  faith  of  her  Catholic  friends, — she  no  doubt  spoke  of  the  hap- 
piness of  being  fully  in  communion  with  the  Church,  ly  the  recep- 
tion of  the  sacraments.  In  this  sense  only  is  the  above-mentioned 
statement  reconcilable  with  the  words  of  her  journal,  from  which, 
as  well  as  from  other  testimony,  we  learn  that  she  was  now  con- 
rinced  of  the  truth  of  the  Catholic  religion. 

(6)-p.  111. 

Although  Mr.  Hobart  labored  so  strenuously  to  uphold  the  erroni 
ti  the  Protest-ant  system,  his  arguments  do  not  appear  to  have  had 


NOTES.  4G3 

*nj  weight  in  strengthening  his  own  private  views  on  the  subject. 
At  a  subsequent  period,  when  he  was  even  Bi«hop  of  the  Episcopal 
Church  in  New  York,  however  much  he  may  have  commended  him- 
self tc  its  people  by  a  certain  zeal  for  their  religious  interests,  he 
was  far  from  being  assured  that  he  was  leading  them  in  the  way  of 
salvation.  In  1820,  Mr.  George  Edmund  Ironside,  formerly  an 
Episcopalian,  but  then  a  Catholic,  published  a  pamphlet  entitled 
"Observations  on  Bishop  Hobart's  charge,  entitled  'Corruptions 
of  the  Church  of  Rome,  contrasted  with  certain  Protestant  errors,'  in 
a  letter  to  that  prelate."  And  in  this  pamphlet,  Mr.  Ironside,  after 
defending  various  points  of  Catholic  doctrine  and  practice,  and 
stating  the  reasons  why  the  assaults  against  Mr.  Kewlt-7,  Mr.  Barber, 
and  himself,  had  not  been  noticed,  says : —  "But  now,  when  you,  who 
have  more  than  once  expressed  your  wish  to  pass  the  end  of  your 
days  in  the  bosom  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  come  forth  armed 
with  all  the  dignity  and  influence  of  office,  it  is  necessary  that  you 
should  meet  with  an  answer." — (p.  43.) 

(6)— p.  158. 

"Reverend  Francis  Matignon  was  born  in  Paris  in  1763,  was 
ordained  priest  in  1778,  and  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divin- 
ity at  the  Sorbonne  in  1785.  He  landed  in  Baltimore  on  the  24th 
of  June,  1792,  in  company  with  three  other  French  priests — namely, 
Mr.  Mareschal,  afterward  Archbishop  of  Baltimore,  (who,  although 
ordained  in  France  on  the  eve  of  his  departure,  said  his  first  mass 
in  Baltimore;)  Mr.  Richard,  for  many  years  missionary  at  Kaskaskia 
and  Detroit,  and  in  1823  delegate  from  Michigan  to  the  Congress 
of  the  United  States ;  and  Mr.  Ciquard,  formerly  of  the  Seminary 
of  Bourges.  Rejoicing  in  the  acquisition  of  a  priest  so  admirably 
suited  to  the  metropolis  of  New  England,  Bishop  Carroll  appointed 
Dr.  Matignon  to  take  charge  of  the  church  in  Boston,  who  arrived 
there  and  entered  on  the  duties  of  his  ministry  on  the  20th  of  August, 
1792."  See  United  States  Catholic  Magazine,  vol.  viii.  See  this  work, 
•Wrf.,  for  an  interesting  sketch  of  the  early  history  of  Catholicity 
in  Boston. 

For  an  account  of  the  life  and  character  of  Cardinal  Cbeveraa, 
eee  the  work  of  Rev.  J.  Huen  Dubourg,  translated  into  English  b/ 
Eobert  M.  Walsh.  Philadelphia:  1841. 


464  NOTES. 

(7)-p.  161. 

The  institution  at  Georgetown  was  commenced  in  1791,  under  titt 
immediate  auspices  of  Bishop  Carroll,  by  clergymen  who  had  been 
members  of  the  Society  of  Jesus.  For  a  period  of  nearly  a  century 
and  a  half  prior  to  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  Jesuits  had 
been  the  only  heralds  of  the  true  faith  in  Maryland  and  Penn- 
sylvania, out  of  which  Catholicity  was  little  known  in  the  Colonies 
and  had  no  resident  missionaries.  Before  that  time,  penal  laws 
were  almost  everywhere  in  force  against  the  professors  of  the  ancient 
faith.  For  an  account  of  the  early  labors  of  the  Jesuits  in  Maryland 
and  elsewhere,  the  reader  is  referred  to  an  interesting  narrative, 
entitled  Sketches  of  Father  Andrew  White,  &c.,  in  the  Catholic 
Almanac  of  1841,  by  B.  U.  Campbell,  Esq.,  and  to  Memoirs  of  the 
Life  and  Times  of  Archbishop  Carroll,  by  the  same  writer,  in  the 
"United  States  Catholic  Magazine,"  voL  iii.  and  following.  These 
memoirs  evince  considerable  research,  and  will  be  consulted  with 
equal  pleasure  and  profit  by  the  student  of  ecclesiastical  history. 
In  1806,  the  company  of  Jesus  was  re-established  in  this  country  by 
a  special  privilege  from  the  Holy  See,  which  had  been  previously 
granted  in  1801  for  its  restoration  in  Russia.  The  names  of  the 
reverend  fathers  who  availed  themselves  of  this  permission  in  the 
United  States  were  Robert  Mollineuz,  Charles  Neale,  Charles 
Sewall,  and  Sylvester  Boarman,  all  of  whom  had  belonged  to  the  an- 
cient society  before  its  suppression  in  1773.  The  first-mentioned 
of  these  clergymen  was  appointed  Superior,  subject,  however,  to 
the  General  in  Russia.  A  novitiate  was  opened  at  Georgetown,  and 
the  society  was  soon  reinforced  by  members  from  Europe.  On  the 
7th  of  August,  1814,  Pius  VII.  re-established  the  company  of  Jesus 
throughout  the  world,  to  the  great  joy  of  all  the  friends  of  religion 
and  letters.  The  following  year,  May,  1815,  Georgetown  College 
was  raised  by  Congress  to  the  rank  of  a  university,  and  it  has  con 
tinned  ever  since  to  be  a  flourishing  seat  of  learning. 

(8)— p.  179. 

By  •«  the  Protestant  doctrine  with  regard  to  faith"  Mrs.  Seton  nc 
doubt  understands  here  the  opinions  which  she  had  heard  ex- 
pressed by  her  former  ]  istor,  Mr.  Hobart,  and  others,  in  referenco  to 


NOTES  465 

the  conditions  of  salvation.  It  was  the  sentiment  of  tlie  high-church 
party  at  that  time,  as  it  is  now,  that  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
the  Episcopalian  Church,  &c.  are  different  branches  of  the  Church 
of  Christ,  and  that  the  established  means  of  salvation  are  to  be 
found  in  them,  but  not  out  of  their  communion.  She  did  not  fail 
to  detect  the  inconsistency  of  such  views  among  Protestants,  and 
the  self-condemnation  which  they  necessarily  imply.  For,  if  the 
various  sects  that  have  rejected  Episcopacy  and  other  tenets  of  the 
ancient  faith  are  on  that  account  heretical  the  Episcopalian  Church 
IB  chargeable  with  the  same  guilt  for  having  repudiated  doctrines 
which  were  equally  of  faith  prior  to  the  Reformation.  When  Mr. 
Hobart,  therefore,  contended  that  certain  Protestant  sects  were  not 
"right,"  or  were  out  of  the  way  of  salvation,  he  evidently  passed 
sentence  against  his  own  denomination ;  for,  intrinsically,  Episcopa- 
lianisia  is  not  different  from  Lutheranism  or  Calvinism.  They  are 
all  the  same  in  principle,  in  having  thrown  off  the  authority  of  the 
parent  Church,  which  is  the  only  "  pillar  and  ground  of  truth." 

(9)— p.  189. 

Mr.  Filicchi  at  the  same  time  enclosed  the  following  letter  to  his 
agents  in  New  York,  directing  them  to  supply  Mrs.  Seton  with  any 
funds  she  would  call  for.  In  a  spirit  of  charity,  however,  and  not 
to  expose  the  harsh  conduct  of  some  of  her  relatives,  (now  passed 
from  life,)  she  did  not  deliver  the  letter.  Its  publication,  however, 
at  this  distant  period,  is  due  to  the  noble  character  of  Mr.  Filicchi. 

"  November  3,  1806. 
'  GENTLEMEN  : — 

"  Christian  religion,  founded  in  charity,  is  so  well  understood  by 
Borne  of  your  neighbors  as  to  allow  themselves  the  privilege  of 
substituting  vexation  and  persecution  for  the  consolation  and  relief 
due  to  virtue  in  distress.  I  refer  to  my  most  respected  convert — my 
virtuous,  unfortunate  friend,  Mrs.  W.  M.  Seton — as  the  persecuted 
person.  The  persecutors  are  her  relations,  her  pretended  friends, 
and  religion,  in  the  shocking  inconsistency  of  their  brains,  is  the 
pretence  for  vexation.  I  profess,  and  will  evince,  thank  God,  far 
petter  principles.  In  addition  to  the  orders  left  with  you  on  my 
departure  from  America,  you  are  requested  to  furnish  Mrs.  Seton 
Trith  whatever  further  sum  she  might  at  any  time  call  for,  to  sup- 
port herself  and  family.  Perhaps  she  may  resolve  to  seek  for  tran- 
2Jf 


466  NOTES 

quilliry  or  retirement  with  us  poor  Roman  Catholic  fools :  ard  wt 
shall  not  be  at  a  loss  to  find  an  asylum  for  them  all  at  Gubbio,  ot 
somewhere  else.  In  that  case,  I  would  beg  of  you,  my  worthy 
friends,  to  lend  her  the  necessary  assistance,  for  which  due  thanks 
and  full  responsibility  are  most  cheerfully  offered  to  you,  gentle- 
men, by 

"  Your  obliged  humble  servant  and  friend, 

"ANTHONY  FlLICCHI." 

(10)— p.  202. 

St.  Mary's  Seminary  in  the  city  of  Baltimore  is  under  the 
charge  of  clergymen  who  are  members  of  the  society  of  St.  Sulpi- 
tius.  This  society  of  priests  was  established  in  France,  in  1641, 
by  the  Rev.  J.  J.  Olier,  for  the  purpose  of  educating  aspirants  to  the 
ecclesiastical  state  in  the  knowledge  and  virtues  of  their  i acred 
calling  ;  and  it  derived  its  name  from  the  parish  of  St.  Sulpice,  in 
Paris,  where  it  was  founded.  At  the  time  of  the  French  revolution, 
the  Sulpitians  had  charge  of  several  ecclesiastical  seminaries  in 
France,  and  of  one  in  Montreal,  where  they  also  employed  them- 
selves in  parochial  duties.  The  following  circumstances  connected 
with  the  origin  of  the  institution  in  Baltimore  may  not  be  uninte- 
resting to  the  reader. 

The  project  of  forming  a  Sulpitian  establishment  in  the  United 
States  is  due  in  the  first  instance  to  the  wise  forethought  of  Rev. 
Mr.  Emery,  Superior-general  of  the  society  at  the  period  of  the 
French  revolution.  When  he  perceived  that  the  National  Assembly 
in  1790  threatened  the  destruction  of  all  religious  institutions  in 
France,  he  feared  for  St.  Sulpice,  and  thought  of  seeking  a  refuge 
for  the  society  elsewhere,  in  order  to  prevent  its  total  extinction  in 
case  it  were  suppressed  in  that  country.*  Having  learned,  the 
same  year,  that  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Carroll,  Bishop-elect  of  Balti- 
more, had  gone  to  London  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  the  episcopal 
consecration,  he  sent  the  Rev.  Mr.  Nagot,  his  assistant,  to  England, 
to  confer  with  him  in  relation  to  the  employment  of  Sulpitians  for 

•  Accoiding  to  a  stateir  "nt  of  Kev.  Mr.  Dillet,  foot  tie  1'Eijlisf  dalholitfiit  on  d« 
tttocexe  ilex  fault-Unit  dans  CAmtri<fite  teptewtrionale,  the  idea  of  establishing  tax 
iodety  aonmwbere  out  of  France  was  first  suggested  to  Mr.  Kniery  by  Rev.  Mr.  d« 
St  Felix,  superior  of  the  Seminary  at  Toulouse.  This  manuscript  of  Mr.  DIUat  ii 
In  the  library  of  St.  Mary'c  Seminary,  Baltimore, 


NOTES.  467 

t!  e  direction  of  an  ecclesiastical  seminary,  in  case  it  was  his  inten- 
tion to  establish  such  an  institution  at  Baltimore.  The  preposition 
was  gladly  accepted  by  Dr.  Carroll,  who  promised  to  select  a  house 
for  the  Sulpitians  as  soon  he  returned  to  America. 

The  individuals  selected  for   the  new  establishment  were  Rev. 

Francis  Charles  Nagot,  Superior,  Rev. Levadoux,  Procurator, 

and  Rev.  John  Tessier  and  Rev.  Anthony  Gamier,  Professors  of  Theo- 
logy, Having  chartered  a  vessel,  furnished  their  own  provisions, 
and  engaged  a  captain  with  his  crew,  they  embarked  from  the  port 
of  St.  Malo  on  the  8th  of  April,  1791,  accompanied  by  five  seminar- 
ists and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Delavau,  a  canon  of  St  Martin  of  Tours. 

They  arrived  in  Baltimore  on  the  10th  of  July.  The  ecclesias  • 
tical  seminary  was  now  commenced,  and  in  1793  a  few  boys  were 
admitted  for  their  education.  This  latter  undertaking,  however,  was 
eoon  interrupted. 

(II)— p.  218. 

Journal  of  Mrs.  Seton  from  New  York  to  Baltimore,  in  a  letter  to 
her  sister-in-law. 

"  10  o'clock,  Thursday,  June  V,  1808. 

"  My  own  Cecil  would  scarcely  believe  that  we  are  only  now  pass- 
ing the  light-house,  thirty  miles  from  New  York.  All  the  fatigue 
and  weariness  of  mind  and  body  past — the  firmament  of  heaven  so 
bright — the  cheering  sea-breeze  and  merry  sailors  would  drive  old 
care  away,  indeed,  had  I  the  company  of  the  five  dearest  beings  who 
bade  adieu  in  the  little  room.  Your  darlings  play  and  eat  till  the  motion 
of  the  vessel  makes  them  sick,  and  then  sleep  away  as  soundly  as 
possible.  Poor  Ann  suffers  all  the  while  she  does  not  sleep.  Every 
one  is  so  kind!  A  very  mild,  modest  young  man  came  down  before 
we  had  been  half  an  hour  on  board,  and  said  '  Madam,  my  name  is 
James  Cork ;  call  on  me  at  all  times — I  will  help  you  in  every  thing ;' 
»nd  so  it  is.  Oh,  swcst  mercy,  how  kindly  you  are  mixed  in  every 
cup  !  how  soothing  to  look  up  and  think  of  it  all !  Again  and  again 
this  pojr  heart  is  offered  in  every  way  he  will  make  use  of  it.  How 
small  a  tribute  for  the  daily  debt !  My  Cecil,  dear,  dear  friend  of 
my  soul,  Friday,  Saturday,  and  Sunday  are  past,  my  dear  one,  with 
many  a  prayer,  many  a  sigh — rocking  and  rolling  without  getting 
on.  Ann  in  sufferiugs  every  way — very  low-spirited — refusing  U 
go  on  deck — the  ladies  on  board,  Mrs  Smith  and  her  daughter,  BO 
good  to  us — coaxing  us  with  almonds  and  raisim,  (ytm  remembot 


468  NOTES. 

poor  sister's  human  affections.)    K and  Rebecca  are  not  half 

BO  sick  as  Ann ;  said  our  vespers  during  a  squall — very  fervently, 
you  may  be  sure.  This  morning  we  are  again  in  sight  of  land,  and 
near  Cape  Henry.  Imagine  a  mattress  forming  a  seat  on  all  sides, 
good  Mrs.  Smith  and  her  daughter  one  end — poor  Ann,  whom  we  have 
forced  on  deck,  and  the  two  darlings,  all  singing, '  Where  and  ok  whert 
is  my  highland  laddie  gone  ?' — sometimes  begging  to  go  back  to  Cecil, 
sometimes  stretching  their  sight  toward  land,  where  they  look  foi 
William  and  Richard.  Mother's  heart  is  firm  and  steadfast,  confl 
dence  looking  straight  upward.  Oh,  how  many,  many  times  has 
it  prepared  for  death  since  we  came  on  board!  how  ardently  does 
it  commit  its  three  darling  sisters  to  Him,  its  only  hope ! 

"Tuesday. — After  rolling  and  dashing  all  night,  my  own  love, 
with  both  little  dear  ones  in  my  narrow  berth, — the  hand  held  over  to 
Ann,  who  sleeps  beneath  me,  — praying  every  ten  minutes  and  offer- 
ing the  life  so  justly  forfeited, — here  we  are  flying  up  the  Chesapeake. 
A  fairer  wind  and  lighter  hearts  never  went  through  it,  I  believe ;  the 
firls  are  singing,  and  eating  almonds  and  raisins — sending  ships 
overboard  to  New  York,  The  sun  is  setting  gloriously,  my  dearest ; 
ave  you  looking  at  it?  My  soul  flies  up  with  the  Miserere — it  is  wrapt 
••ound  yours  and  lear  Zide's — for  our  own  Hatche  it  sends  the  sigh. 
To-morrow  do  I  go  among  strangers  ?  No.  Has  an  anxious  thought 
or  fear  passed  my  mind  ?  No.  Can  I  be  disappointed  ?  No.  One 
sweet  sacrifice  will  unite  my  soul  with  all  who  offer  it;  doubt  and 
fear  fly  from  the  breast  inhabited  by  Him.  There  can  be  no  dis- 
appointment where  the  soul's  only  desire  and  expectation  is  to  meet 
His  adored  will  and  fulfil  it.  In  forty-eight  hours  I  shall  be  offer- 
ing the  sacrifice  of  thanksgiving  and  fervent  love  to  all,  my  darling, 
darling  Cecil.  You  will  be  in  my  heart  to  meet  Him.  Who  can 
speak  the  wonders  of  that  hope  ? 

"  Wednesday  evening. — Once  more  good-night,  sweet  love,  aboard 
the  Grand  Sachem,  not  yet  in  Baltimore  Bay.  Hope  is  on  the  wing, 
expecting  to-morrow  morning.  What  are  you  doing  T  All  the  dar- 
linga  looking  up  to  Cecil — happy,  happy  child,  whom  God  employs  1 
how  contrasted  to  the  giddy  round  of  beings  who  play  away  theii 
happiness,  both  present  and  eternal  I  Gc  on,  favored  of  Heaven ! 
its  eternal  blessings  be  with  you,  my  own ! 

"  Thursday  morning,  9  o'clock. — Since  eleven  last  night  we  are  at 
the  wharf,  but  cannot  quit  the  vessel  until  our  things  art  entered  at 


NOTES.  469 

fhe  custom-house.  It  rains  very  hard.  How  poor  mother's  heart 
beats !  the  hand  trembles,  too.  In  one  hour  we  will  be  at  St.  Mary'i 
How  often  has  the  soul  visited  his  sacred  presence  on  the  altar!— 
not  one  solitary  altar,  but  the  many  we  will  soon  see  1  My  Cecil, 
my  soul's  sister,  there  is  no  distance  for  souls  united  as  ours. 

"  Thursday  evening.  Corput  Christi. — My  dear,  dear,  dear,  dear, 
dear,  all  I  can  tell  you  is,  a  carriage  conveyed  us  to  the  seminary— 
the  organ's  solemn  peal  first,  then  the  bursting  of  the  choir.  This 
was  the  moment  of  the  consecration  of  Mr.  Dubourg's  chapel.  We 
entered  without  a  word,  prostrate  in  an  instant.  St.  Michael's*  voice 
resounded  the  Kyrie  Eleixon ;  human  nature  could  scarcely  bear  it 
Your  imagination  can  never  conceive  the  splendor,  the  glory,  of  the 
scene.  All  I  have  told  you  of  Florence  is  a  shadow.  After  mass  I 
was  in  the  arms  of  the  loveliest  woman  you  ever  beheld, — Mr.  Du- 
bourg's sister, — surrounded  by  so  many  caresses  and  blessings ;  all 
my  wonder  is  how  I  got  through  it — the  feelings  confounded  with 
wonder  and  delight. 

"  Friday  evening. — Received  my  (our)  all — oh,  how  fervently!  So 
much,  all  combined,  turns  my  brain.  Mass  from  daylight  to  eight — 
my  dwelling  the  most  complete — almost  joining  the  chapel.  Vespers 
and  benediction  every  evening — every  heart  caressing  us — the  look 
of  love  and  peace  on  every  countenance — St.  Michael  always  with 
us,  talking  of  you.  He  will  soon  write  you.  I  go  with  him  on 
Monday  to  Georgetown  for  my  darling  boys.  Hush,  my  soul! 
Cecil,  my  Cecil,  that  soul  cries  out  for  you — it  cannot  do  without 
you — it  must  claim  you  in  life  and  in  death  There  is  a  little  mount 
behind  the  chapel  called  Calvary— olive-trees  and  a  cross.  At  the 
foot  of  it  are  four  graves.  'There  is  your  rest,'  said  Mr.  Dubourg, 
is  we  passed  it  this  morning — it  must  be  yours,  my  lovely,  dear 
Bister;  prepare  the  way.  Eliza!  Harriet!  is  it  possible  ?  Blessed 
Lord,  pity  us!" 

(12)— p.  216. 

Mrs  Seton  probably  referred  here  to  the  distance  from  her  resi- 
dence to  the  place  where  she  had  landed  on  her  arrival  at  Baltimore. 


*  By  this  name  Mrs.  Seton  and  her  sister  dr>si{rn«t«>d  the  Rev.  Michael  Hurley, 
He  had  one  of  the  most  musical  voices  that  can  )>e  imagined,  the  charm  of  whiefc 
WM  not  less  delightful  In  the  sacred  chant  than  in  »h.>  pulpit. 
40 


470  NOTES. 

Although  the  city  at  that  time  was  far  from  covering  the  ppace  which 
it  now  occupies,  there  was  not  more  than  half  a  mile  of  vacant 
ground  or  forest  between  her  house  and  the  thickly-settled  part  of 
the  town.  The  population  was  then  about  46,000.  The  only  Catho- 
lic churches  which  it  contained  were  St.  Peter's,  since  removed ; 
St.  Patrick's,  rebuilt;  St.  John's,  since  replaced  by  St.  Alphonsus  ; 
and  St.  Mary's  chapel,  just  then  completed.  The  foundation  cf  th» 
present  Metropolitan  church  had  been  laid  in  1806 ;  but  it  wu 
not  dedicated  until  the  year  1821. 

(13)— p.  236. 

This  house  stands  between  the  kitchen  and  the  workroom.  The 
school  was  soon  after  removed  to  another  log-house  opposite,  which 
was  erected  for  the  purpose.  To  this  a  frame  building  was  added, 
and  subsequently,  at  the  west  end,  a  second  building  of  logs.  In  this 
block  were  comprised  for  many  years  the  academical  halls  of  Mt. 
St.  Mary's  College,  and  a  portion  of  it  is  still  standing.  A  writer 
in  the  United  States  Catholic  Magazine,  vol.  v.,  1846,  p.  37,  thus  al- 
ludes to  the  early  improvements  at  that  place : — "  Mr.  Dubois,  who 
loved  an  elevated  site  commanding  an  extensive  prospect,  intended 
at  first  to  build  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  a  short  distance  in  front 
of  the  church,  and  he  had  prepared  the  ground  for  the  purpose ; 
but  he  was  wisely  persuaded  by  Mr.  Dubourg  to  choose  the  better 
site  below,  where  he  would  have  command  of  the  ample  supply  of 
water  from  the  spring,  and,  like  a  ship  in  a  snug  harbor,  be  pro- 
tected by  the  mountain  both  on  the  north  and  west  from  the  w"nda 
of  winter.  For  several  years  he  was  occupied  in  erecting  his  rwo 
rows  of  log-buildings  in  the  midst  of  a  dense  thicket  and  on  the 
margin  of  an  almost  impassable  swamp.  A  clearing  was  made  to 
the  south  by  cutting  away  the  forest-trees ;  but  for  several  years 
their  stumps  remained  to  decorate  the  college  play-ground.  Farther 
south  a  garden  was  prepared  and  an  orchard  planted.  A  largo 
amount  of  money  and  labor  was  expended  in  breaking  these  grounds 
into  terraces,  levelling  them,  freeing  them  from  rocks  and  stones, 
and  otherwise  improving  them."  "Sometimes,"  says  the  same 
writer,  "the  seminary  assumed  the  appearance  of  a  manual-labor 
school,  when  the  older  pupils  and  their  teachers  gathered  in  the 
harvests  of  the  farm,  or  labored,  with  their  venerated  president  at 
their  head,  in  clearing,  levelling,  and  improving  the  grounds  about 


NOTES.  471 

their  college.  This  wai  generally,  however,  regarded  as  recreation, 
and  sweetened  by  many  an  artifice  which  the  good  old  gentle*na« 
knew  how  to  employ  in  order  to  convert  toil  iuto  pastime." 

(14)— p.  236. 

This  seminary  had  been  opened  in  1806,  on  the  feast  of  the  As- 
Bomption  of  the  B.  V.  Mary,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dillet,  a  Sulpitian.  It 
was  situated  five  miles  from  Hanover,  and  about  two  from  Abbotts- 
town,  near  the  foot  of  a  ridge  called  Pigeon  Hills.  Some  years 
after,  the  property  became  a  retreat  for  the  students  of  St.  Mary's 
Seminary  and  College  in  Baltimore,  during  the  summer  vacation, 
and  was  adreirably  suited  to  the  purpose.  The  buildings  were 
spacious  and  commodious,  surrounded  by  fine  gardens  and  ex- 
tensive orchards,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  country  remarkable  for  its 
salubrious  atmosphere  and  offering  many  facilities  for  agreeable 
pastime  and  healthy  amusement.  This  place  continued  to  be  the 
resort  of  the  seminarians  and  collegians  until  the  year  1849,  when 
it  was  exchanged  for  the  more  convenient  locality  of  St.  Charles 
College,  about  fifteen  miles  from  Baltimore,  on  the  Frederick  Road 
See  j£tat  de  I'fiylise  Catholique,  by  Dillet,  already  quoted. 

(15)— p.  241. 

At  this  period  (1809)  there  were  only  three  institutions  in  the 
United  States — besides  that  just  commenced  at  Baltimore — which 
offered  to  the  female  sex  an  asylum  from  the  world  for  the  more 
assiduous  cultivation  of  Christian  perfection : — the  Ursuline  Convent 
at  New  Orleans,  the  Carmelite  Convent  in  Charles  county,  Md.,  and 
the  community  of  ladies  at  Georgetown,  D.  C.  Of  these,  only  the 
first  and  last-mentioned  afforded  facilities  for  the  education  of  young 
ladies. 

The  Ursuline  Convent  at  New  Orleans  was  founded  in  1727,  while 
Louisiana  was  a  French  province,  and  it  gave  the  benefits  of  a 
Bound  education  to  almost  all  who  received  a  liberal  course  of  in- 
struction in  that  part  of  the  country,  until  the  year  1791,  whenthia 
employment  was  shared  by  emigrants  from  St.  Domingo.  The 
nuns  had  also  charge  of  a  hospital  and  orphan  asylum. 

The  Carmelite  r rder  of  the  reform  of  St.  Theresa  was  established 
In  t.his  country,  in  1790.  by  the  Reverend  Charles  Neale,  wh« 


472  NOTES. 

brought  with  him  from  Europe  four  nuns,  three  of  whom  wer« 
Americans  and  one  an  English  lady.  They  took  possession  of  their 
house,  near  Port  Tobacco,  Charles  county,  Md.,  on  the  16th  of 
October.  They  fast  eight  months  in  the  year,  wear  woollen  cloth- 
ing, and  sleep  on  straw  beds.  They  recite  the  canonical  office,  and 
offer  up  their  prayers,  fasts,  and  other  good  works,  for  the  benefit 
of  souls,  and  particularly  for  those  who  labor  in  the  vineyard  of 
Christ.  They  never  eat  meat  except  in  case  of  necessity,  when  th« 
physician  prescribes  the  use  of  it.  Owing  to  a  curtailment  of  their 
means  of  support,  the  Most  Rev.  Archbishop  Whitfield  advised 
them,  in  1831,  to  remove  to  Baltimore  and  open  a  school  for  the 
instruction  of  young  persons  belonging  to  their  sex.  They  accord- 
ingly transferred  their  establishment  to  that  city  on  the  13th  of 
September,  the  same  year.  The  Rev.  Abbe"  Herard  deserves 
mention  as  one  of  the  principal  benefactors  of  this  excellent  com- 
munity. He  did  much  toward  the  erection  of  their  present  choir 
and  chapel,  and  left  them  an  annuity  of  several  hundred  dollars  for 
the  support  of  a  chaplain.  There  are  generally  about  twenty-five 
Bisters  in  the  house.  Their  school  was  discontinued  in  the  begin- 
ning of  1852.  For  further  details  respecting  the  origin  and  pro- 
gress of  the  Carmelite  Convent,  see  United  Statet  Catholic  Magazine, 
vol.  viii.,  1849,  pp.  24-38. 

The  Visitation  Convent  at  Georgetown  owes  its  origin,  in  a  great 
measure,  to  the  zeal  of  the  Reverend  Leonard  Neale,  afterward 
Archbishop  of  Baltimore.  In  the  year  1797,  Miss  Alice  Lalor 
associated  herself  with  two  other  ladies  in  Philadelphia,  tinder  the 
direction  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Neale,  to  form  a  pious  community.  Her 
two  companions  having  been  carried  off  by  the  yellow  fever,  she 
went,  in  1798,  to  Georgetown,  where  she  boarded  for  a  short  time 
with  a  community  of  Poor  Clares,  who  were  then  established  in  that 
place.  With  the  aid  of  two  other  ladies,  she  purchased  a  small 
frame  building,  and  opened  a  school  for  girls.  The  provisional 
rules  of  the  house  were  those  of  the  Visitation  order  established 
by  St.  Francis  of  Sales ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  year  1816  that  the 
sisters  were  recognised  by  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  as  a  community  of 
the  Visitation  rule.  In  that  year  Archbishop  Neale  obtained  for 
them  the  privilege  of  taking  the  solemn  vows  of  the  order. 

The  ladies  of  the  institution  have  always  conducted  a  female 
academy.  Several  foundations  have  been  made  from  this  very 


NOTES.  473 

osefn*  establishment,  which  had  ri.«en  to  a  high  degree  of  pros- 
perity. At  Baltimore,  St.  Louis,  Mobile,  Wheeling,  Frederick,  and 
Washington  City,  are  flourishing  academies  under  the  direction  of 
the  sisters  of  the  Visitation.  Another  foundation  was  recently 
made  at  Mt.  De  Sales,  near  Catonsville,  about  five  miles  from 
Baltimore,  which  promises  by  its  admirable  situation  to  attain  a 
high  degree  of  prosperity. 

The  society  of  Clarists,  mentioned  atove,  continued  in  Georgetown 
until  the  year  1805.  The  superior  died  about  that  time,  and  the  two 
remaining  members  returned  to  Europe.  While  here,  they  taught  a 
school  as  a  means  of  support ;  but  they  suffered  much  from  poverty. 
On  one  occasion  they  were  so  much  pressed  for  want  of  the  neces- 
saries of  life  that  they  were  obliged  to  sell  a  parrot  to  procure  food. 

(16)— p.  269. 

The  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Cheverus  was  consecrated  Bishop  of  Boston,  on 
the  1st  of  November,  1810,  by  the  Most  Rev.  Archbishop  Carroll,  in 
St.  Peter's  Cathedral,  Baltimore.  The  Sovereign  Pontiff  Pius  VIL 
had  raised  Baltimore  to  the  rank  of  a  Metropolitan  See  on  the  8th 
of  April,  1808,  creating  at  the  same  time  four  suffragan  bishoprics, 
New  Fork,  Philadelphia,  Boston,  and  Bardstown.  The  Rev. 
Luke  Concannon,  a  Dominican,  was  appointed  to  the  first;  Rev. 
Michael  Egan,  a  Franciscan,  to  the  second ;  Rev.  John  Cheverus, 
a  secular  priest,  to  the  third;  and  Rev.  Benedict  J.  Flaget,  a 
Sulpitian,  to  the  fourth.  The  apostolic  letters,  however,  by 
which  these  important  arrangements  were  made  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  religion  in  the  United  States,  did  not  arrive  until  two 
years  after,  owing  to  the  difficulties  arising  from  the  troubled  state 
of  Europe  Dr.  Concannon  never  reached  his  see,  having  died  at 
Naples,  in  July,  1810,  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  America. 
Bishop  Egan  was  consecrated  in  St.  Peter's  Cathedral,  on  the  28th 
of  October,  of  that  year,  by  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Carroll,  and  on  the 
4th  of  November  Bishop  Flaget  was  consecrated  by  the  same  pre- 
late, in  St.  Patrick's  Church  on  Fell's  Point*  On  the  latter  oc- 
casion Bishop  Cheverus  preached,  and  paid  a  well-merited  com- 
pliment  to  the  venerable  metropolitan,  and  to  the  society  of  Si. 

*  That  Bishop  Flaget  was  consecrated  in  St.  Patrick'*  Church  appear*  from  UM 
printed  documents  of  that  time. 
40* 


J74  NOTES. 

SulpiHus  He  saluted  the  former  "«8  the  Elias  of  the  new  law, 
the  fathot  of  the  clergy,  the  con<luctor  of  the  car  of  Israel  in  th« 
New  World.  Pater  mi,  Pater  mi,  eurrus  Israel  et  auriga  ejug."  To 
the  latter  he  applied  the  eulogy  "  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  F6n61on 
on  his  bed  of  death,  at  that  moment  when  a  man  flatters  no  more  : 
— '  I  know  nothing  more  venerable  and  more  apostolical  than  tht 
order  of  St.  Sulpitius.'"f  The  American  hierarchy  now  consisted 
of  Archbishop  Carroll,  his  coadjutor  the  Et.  Rev.  Leonard  Neale, 
Bishop  of  Gortyna  in  part,  and  the  three  prelates  above  mentioned. 
Before  separating,  they  adopted  a  series  of  regulations  for  the  good 
of  religion  in  their  respective  districts,  among  which  were  the  fol 
lowing:  — 

"  When  any  portion  of  the  Holy  Scripture  is  quoted  in  prayer- 
books  or  other  works  of  piety,  the  Douay  version,  and  no  other,  ig 
to  be  used. 

"Priests  are  admonished  of  the  obligation  of  recording  the  bap- 
tisms, marriages,  and  interments,  which  they  perform,  in  books  kept 
for  this  purpose. 

"According  to  the  spirit  and  general  practice  of  the  Cnurch,  the 
sacrament  of  baptism  should  be  administered  in  a  church,  in  this* 
places  which  have  one. 

"  The  perquisite  or  fee  to  be  offered  to  clergymen,  when  they 
are  requested  to  celebrate  a  low  mass,  is  fixed  at  half  a  dollar. 

"All  pastors  of  souls  are  admonished  that  they  strive,  by  public 
and  private  exhortation,  to  withdraw  their  flocks  from  the  love  of 
dangerous  amusements,  such  as  the  theatre,  balls,  &c.,  and  that 
they  forbid  them  to  read  such  books  as  would  expose  their  faith  or 
morals  to  perversion,  and  that  they  especially  prohibit  the  indiscri- 
minate use  of  novels. 

"  All  priests  in  the  exercise  of  the  ministry  are  warned  not  to  ad- 
minister the  sacraments  of  penance  and  the  holy  eucharist  to  those 
who  are  publicly  known  to  be  free-masons,  unless  they  promise  that 
they  will  keep  away  from  the  lodges  of  the  society,  and  will  never 
profess  themselves  in  any  way  connected  with  it" 

The  statistics  of  Catholicity  in  the  United  States,  in  the  year 
1810,  may  be  given  as  follows : — One  Metropolitan  and  four  Episco- 
pal Sees ;  one  archbishop  and  four  bishops ;  about  seventy  priest*, 
%nd  eighty  churches.  There  existed  at  the  time  thre*  theological 

f  Life  of  Cardinal  Cheverug,  p.  85. 


NOTES.  475 

seminaries, — vii. :  St.  Mary's,  Baltimore,  the  novitiate  of  the  Jesuits 
at  Georgetown,  and  that  of  the  Dominicans  at  St.  Rose's,  Kentucky ; 
three  colleges  for  the  education  of  young  men,  connected  with  the 
establishments  jus*  mentioned,  and  a  preparatory  seminary  at  Ein- 
mettsburg.  There  were  four  houses  which  offered  an  asylum  to  females 
for  the  practice  of  the  evangelical  counsels,  in  three  of  which  an  aca- 
demy was  conducted  for  the  instruction  of  young  ladies.  But  this 
Catholic  force  was  chiefly  concentrated  in  the  States  bordering  on 
the  Atlantic  coast.  With  the  exception  of  six  priests  in  Kentucky, 
and  seven  or  eight  farther  west,  the  clergy  were  all  stationed  east 
of  the  Alleghanies.  Rev.  Stephen  T.  Badin,  who  had  been  sent  to 
Kentucky  in  1793,  had  labored  indefatigably,  and  mostly  alone,  in 
that  part  of  the  country,  and  prepared  the  way  for  the  arrival  of 
the  new  bishop.  Mr.  Badin  was  the  first  priest  ever  ordained  in 
the  United  States.* 

(17)— p.  295. 

CONFIRMATION    OF   THE    RULES. 

"  I  have  read,  and  endeavored  before  God  attentively  to  consider, 
the  constitutions  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  submitted  to  me  by  the 
Reverend  Superior  of  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpitius,  and  I  have  ap- 
proved of  the  same,  believing  them  to  be  inspired  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  and  suitable  to  conduct  the  sisters  to  religious  perfection. 

"f  JOHN,  Archbishop  of  Baltimore. 
"Baltimore,  January  17,  1812." 

"  After  having  read  the  constitutions  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity 
with  great  attention,  and  approved  of  every  thing  contained  therein, 
I  have  presented  them  to  the  Most  Rev.  Archbishop  Carroll  for  ob- 
taining his  approbation,  and  at  the  same  time  I  have  confirmed  and 
hereby  again  confirm  the  nomination  of  the  Rev.  John  Dubois  for 
their  Superior-general.  In  witness  of  which  I  have  here  set  mj 
hand,  on  the  17th  of  January,  1812. 

JOHN  TESSIER." 

(18)— p.  307 

The  words  of  St.  Felicitas  to  her  children  should  be  deeply  en- 
graved upon  the  memory  of  every  Christian  parent.  She  and  her 
seven  sous  were  arrested  for  the  faith,  in  the  year  150,  during  th« 

•  See  "  Sketches  of  Kentucky,    by  the  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Spalding. 


476  NOTES. 

persecution  of  Antoninus  Pius.  The  Roman  prefect  endeavored  to 
prevail  upon  her  to  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  by  appealing  to  her  mater- 
nal sympathies.  But  she  nobly  answered  that  to  pity  her  children 
for  undergoing  the  martyr's  death  would  make  her  the  most  cruel 
of  mothers.  She  then  turned  to  her  seven  sons,  and  with  heroic 
courage  said  to  them,  "My  sons,  LOOK  UP  TO  HEAVEN,  where  Jesus 
Christ  with  his  saints  expects  you.  Be  faithful  in  his  love,  and 
fight  courageously  for  your  souls."  Thus,  as  St.  Gregory  remarks, 
did  she  invigorate  the  hearts  of  her  children,  by  inculcating  the 
love  of  Heaven,  that  she  might  bring  forth  spiritually  unto  Q  3d 
those  whom  she  had  carnally  given  to  the  world. 

The  history  of  the  generous  mother  of  the  Machabees  is  equally 
•worthy  of  admiration.  See  2d  book  of  Mach.,  chapter  vii. 

(19)— p.  321 

A  vo>f  is  a  promise,  deliberately  made  to  God,  of  doing  something 
that  is  good  or  more  agreeable  to  him.  As  a  promise,  it  differs  from 
a  mere  resolution,  and  induces  an  obligation  under  sin  of  fulfilling 
what  has  been  promised.  "If  thou  hast  vowed  any  thing  to  God, 
defer  not  to  pay  it ;  for  an  unfaithful  and  foolish  promise  displeaseth 
him."— Eccl.  v.  3. 

That  vows  are  agreeable  to  God  is  plain  from  innumerable 
passages  of  the  Old  Testament ;  and  in  the  New  we  read  of  St.  Paul 
that  he  had  a  vow — Acts  rviii.  18  ;  and  the  same  apostle,  speaking 
of  widows  who  had  bound  themselves  to  chastity,  says : — "  Having 
damnation,  because  they  made  void  their  first  faith:"  1  Tim.  v.  12. 
Vows,  when  prudently  and  lawfully  made,  are  beneficial,  by  fixing 
the  inconstancy  of  our  mind  and  placing  us  under  the  necessity  of 
doing  good.  They  also  perfect  the  offering  we  make  to  God ;  for, 
by  a  vow  we  give  him  not  only  the  action  we  perform,  but  also  cur 
liberty  in  regard  to  it. 

A  simple  vow  is  a  promise  made  to  God  without  any  solemnity 
recognised  by  the  Church.  A  solemn  vow  implies  the  tradition  an  j 
consecration  of  oneself  to  the  Divine  service  according  to  a  pre- 
scribed form,  and  in  the  name  of  God  accepted  by  the  Church.  Thii 
latter  vow  is  made  when  a  person  enters  into  holy  orders,  or  when 
he  makes  a  religious  profession  in  an  order  approved  by  the  Churc  h. 
The  solemnity  of  a  vow,  according  to  the  more  common  opinion  of 


NOTES.  477 

theologians,  is  determined  by  the  canon  law,  which  requires  for 
this  end  the  following  conditions: — 1.  That  the  religious  order  in 
which  the  vow  is  made  be  approved  by  the  Church  as  perfectly 
regular ;  2.  That  the  vow  be  accepted  by  the  proper  superior  in  the 
name  of  the  Church ;  3.  That  there  be  an  absolute  tradition  and  ac- 
ceptance of  the  entire  person,  by  the  three  vows  of  poverty,  chastity, 
and  obedience;  4.  That  the  person  making  the  vows  have  com- 
pleted the  sixteenth  year  of  his  age  and  one  year  of  his  noviceship. 
— Concil. Trident, sess.  25,  ch.  15  de  Regul.  See  Bouvier,  Inti'A. 
Theolog.,  vol.  iv.  p.  286,  &c. 

He  who  binds  himself  by  solemn  vows  cannot  validly  marry,  pod- 
eess  property,  &c. ;  but  this  inability  is  not  contracted  by  him  who 
makes  a  simple  vow ;  he  is  only  obliged,  under  pain  of  sin,  not  to 
marry,  &c. 

(20)— p.  330. 

One  morning  during  Whitsun-week,  Mother  Seton,  being  on  he* 
way  to  the  infirmary,  where  one  of  the  sisters  was  sick,  was  met  by 
a  pupil  who  presented  her  a  rose.  Finding  the  invalid  in  a  slumber, 
and  unwilling  to  disturb  her,  she  placed  the  flower  near  her,  and  then 
left  the  room.  The  sister  soon  after  awoke,  and,  perceiving  the  rose, 
she  sat  up  in  her  bed  and  penned  the  following  lines,  which  she  sent 
to  Mother  Seton: — 

"  The  morning  was  beautiful,  mild,  and  serene ; 

All  nature  had  waked  from  repose ; 
Maternal  affection  came  silently  in 
And  placed  near  my  bosom  a  rose. 

"  Poo?  nature  was  weak,  and  had  almost  prevailed 

The  weari6d  eyelids  to  close  ; 
But  the  soul  rose  in  triumph,  and  joyfully  hailed 
The  sweet  queen  of  flowers — the  rose. 

"  Whitsuntide  was  the  time,  'twas  the  season  of  love  | 

Methought  the  Blest  Spirit  had  chose 
To  leave  for  a  while  the  sweet  form  of  a  dove 
And  come  in  the  blush  of  the  rose. 

"Come,  heavenly  Spirit,  descend  on  each  brraat, 

And  there  let  thy  blessings  repose, 
As  thou  once  did  on  Mary,  the  temple  of  reet, 

for  Mary's  our  mystical  rote. 


i73  NOTES. 

"  Oh,  may  every  rose  that  springs  forth  evermore 

Enkindle  the  hearts  of  all  those 
Who  wear  it  or  see  it,  to  bless  and  adore 
The  hand  that  created  the  rose !" 

(21)— p.  334. 

Alluding  to  those  who  commenced  this  benevolent  work,  the  irritei 
m  the  Catholic  Herald  says  : — 

"  It  is  impossible,  at  this  distant  period,  to  furnish  the  names  of 
all  the  gentlemen  who  are  entitled  to  the  honor  of  having  originated 
this  charity ;  but  it  is  known  that  James  0.  Ellus  was  then  an  active 
participant,  and  for  many  years  an  earnest  co-operator,  in  the  under- 
taking. The  orphans  whose  protection  they  assumed  were  for  some 
time  boarded  with  a  person  with  whom  an  arrangement  to  that  effect 
had  been  made;  and  much  difficulty  was  frequently  experienced, 
from  the  limited  number  of  contributors,  in  providing  the  means 
requisite  for  their  support. 

"  In  the  year  1806,  a  meeting  consisting  of  not  more  than  six 
gentlemen  was  held  in  the  Little  Chapel  of  St.  Joseph's,  with  the 
object  of  more  perfectly  organizing  the  association  which  had  been 
formed.  Among  them  were  John  F.  Soares,  and  Joseph  Eck,  who 
was  subsequently  the  first  secretary  of  the  Board.  The  writer  did 
not  attend  that  meeting,  but  was  at  the  next  succeeding  meeting, 
and  was  then  enrolled  among  the  founders  of  that  institution.  On 
the  18th  of  December,  1807,  an  act  of  incorporation  was  obtained, 
and  the  house  on  Sixth  Street,  northerly  adjoining  Holy  Trinity 
Church,  was  rented  from  Adam  Primmer,  for  the  use  of  the  insti- 
tution, where  it  was  continued  till  recently,  when  the  spacious  build- 
•ng  at  the  corner  of  Seventh  and  Spruce  Streets  was  erected  by  the 
Managers.  It  appears,  from  a  report  written  by  the  Most  Rev. 
Archbishop  Hughes  in  March,  1830,  who  was  then  a  member  of  the 
Board  of  Managers  of  this  institution,  that  in  the  year  1811  tie 
house  and  lot  where  the  asylum  then  stood  were  purchase  1>  and 
cost,  including  subsequent  improvements,  $6,927.28." 

(22)— p.  347. 

These  collections  of  sentences  were  called  "virtue-books,"  and 
were  in  use  among  th»  members  of  a  pious  community  composed 


NOTES.  473 

of  some  of  the  pupils.  A  virtue  was  selected  every  day  by  each  ore 
»s  the  object  of  her  particular  attention,  and  in  the  evening  she 
examined  how  far  she  had  succeeded  or  failed  in  the  practice  of  it. 
The  following  is  a  specimen  of  those  collections 

"The  spring  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  on* 
grove.  Arise,  my  love,  and  come  away !  Hasten  to  the  arms  of 
ycur  Jesus,  and  fear  nothing. — Divine  Union  and  Repose. 

"  Do  you  love  ?  Have  no  other  will  but  that  of  your  Beloved. 
Abandon  yourself  to  him,  and  cast  all  your  care  upon  him.  He  has 
<aid  it;  he  will  never  leave  you  or  forsake  you. — Trust  and  Love. 

'"I  have  loved  you  with  eternal  love,'  says  your  Beloved,  'and  laid 
down  my  life  for  your  sake.  Come,  then,  follow  me.'  Answer  him, 
'Yes,  dear  Lord,  even  unto  death.' — Courage  and  Love. 

"Be  not  grieved  and  afflicted  if  your  good  intentions  fail  you. 
inow  your  kind  Master  accepts  even  your  desires,  and  what  you 
would  do  if  you  could. — Confidence  and  Peace. 

"Finish  the  work  your  Father  has  given  you  to  do,  and  remem- 
ber, after  putting  your  hand  to  the  plough  you  must  not  turn  back. 
— -Fidelity. 

"  While  you  try  to  do  the  will  of  your  Beloved,  do  not  forget 
Aim  in  the  performance  of  it.  You  know  he  is  a  jealous  lover,  and 
wishes  to  have  your  whole  heart. — Love  of  the  Diviue  Presence. 

"Do  not  your  Lord's  work  negligently,  nor  yet  be  over-careful. 
All  he  requires  is  fidelity,  and  leave  the  rest  to  him.  Patient  labor 
shall  have  a  great  reward. — Patience  and  Fidelity. 

"The  light  affliction  of  a  moment  will  obtain  for  you  a  weight  of 
eternal  glory.  Suffer,  then,  with  love,  and  rejoice  to  be  counted 
worthy  to  share  with  your  Beloved. — Love  your  Cross. 

"Do  good  while  you  have  time,  and  redeem  the  past.  But  giv« 
not  away  yo.ur  oil,  or  the  Bridegroom  may  come  and  find  your  vessel 
•rnpty. — Watch  continually. 

"Arise,  and  go  to  your  Father.  Confess  you  have  sinned  against 
: I.  riven  nrul  before  him.  A  contrite  heart  if  his  delight,  and  the 
-.ml  which  trust*  in  him  sluill  not  he  confounded  forever. — Repent- 
ance and  Peiisince. 

"  Accept  the  will  of  your  sweet  Lord  sincerely  in  all  things,  and 
\li  yjur  pains  shall  turn  into  plenum*.  Lnvc  will  turn  your  lead 
lo  golil.  and  your  thorny  crown  to  unfiilinir  rose*. —  Love,  love,  love 

"Possess  your  soul  in  patience.     Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled 


480  NOTES. 

The  sun  will  not  always  be  under  the  cloud.     He  soon  will  shine  the 
brighter  for  having  been  hid  a  while. — Courage  and  Confidence. 

"Do  not  try  to  get  down  from  the  cross,  for  the  cross  and  your 
Jesus  are  inseparable.  The  way  you  walk  in  is  covered  with  thorns, 
but  it  leads  you  direct  to  his  throne. — Courage  and  Faith. 

(23)— p.  368. 

As  an  evidence  of  the  remarkable  piety  and  purity  of  soul  of  Mist 
Rebecca  Seton,  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  she  and  two  of  her  com- 
panions had  formed  an  agreement  among  themselves,  that  whoever 
would  die  first  would  use  her  influence  with  God  to  obtain  for  the 
others  the  grace  of  dying  happily  at  an  early  age  rather  than  live 
at  the  risk  of  their  eternal  salvation.  She  was  the  first  summoned 
from  life,  and  her  two  pious  associates  followed  her  rapidly  within 
a  brief  period  of  each  other. 

(24)— p.  373. 

An  association  was  formed  in  New  York,  in  1817,  under  the  title 
of  the  New  York  Roman  Catholic  Benevolent  Society,  the  object  of 
which  was  to  support  and  educate  orphans.  It  appears  that  Messrs. 
Francis  Cooper  and  C.  Heeny  were  the  principal  movers  in  this  un- 
dertaking among  the  laity.  Among  the  most  valued  friends  of  the 
institution  was  Madam  Lerew,  whose  husband  was  a  wealthy  mer- 
chant of  New  York  and  a  trustee  of  St.  Peter's  Church.  This  lady 
took  a  deep  interest  in  the  success  of  the  establishment ;  and,  when 
some  difficulty  had  arisen  in  regard  to  the  management  of  its  affairs, 
she  stated  that  she  would  rather  undertake  to  pay  all  the  expenses 
of  the  institution  herself  than  see  it  fail.  With  the  blessing  of  God 
it  continued  to  prosper,  until  it  reached  its  present  degree  of  pros 
perity.  For  upward  of  twenty  years  it  was  under  the  charge  of 
Sister  Elizabeth  Boyle,  as  sister-servant,  who  had  been  previously 
tie  assistant  of  Mother  Seton  in  the  government  of  the  society.  In 
MIC  of  her  letters  Motker  Seton  calls  her  "dearest  old  partner  of 
Kj  eares  and  bearer  of  my  burdens." 

(25)— p.  375. 

Before  Mr.  Seton  embarked,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brute",  his  former  pro- 
tector and  constant  friend,  addressed  to  him  the  following  advice,  in 
French,  which  may  be  rend  with  advantage  by  all  young  mea:— 


NOT  IB.  481 

"  Mt.  8t  Mary'i,  February  IS,  1818. 
"  MT  DEAR  FEIKND  : — 

"  Love  God  above  all  things.     Serve  him  and  observe  his  holy 
law  at  the  risk  of  every  sacrifice.     To  obey  and  please  him  is  the 
duty  of  our  whole  life,  under  whatever  circumstances  we  may  be 
destined  to  follow  its  rapid  course  to  eternity.     The  Almighty  nmnt 
have  taken  you  under  his  special  care,  to  preserve  you  faithful  until 
.'.o  w  amid  trials  that  might  have  extinguished  in  your  heart  the  sen- 
timent of  his  love  and  fear.     He  will  support  you  and  keep  you  to 
himself,  becoming   your  light,  your  strength,  your  perseverance 
Let  your  soul  be  continually  uplifted  to  him ;  seek  him  with  the  love 
and  simplicity  of  a  child ;  examine  in  every  thing  his  will,  learn  it 
with  an  upright  mind,  and  embrace  it  with  courage, — yes,  with 
courage,  my  friend.     How  much  will  you  be  in  need  of  resolution, 
surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  persons  who  are  in  general  so  little  ac- 
customed to  regulate  their  life  by  the  principles  of  religion,  or  even 
of  sound  reason ! — alas  1  alas !  accustomed  rather  to  despise  openly 
and  merrily  the  strict  maxims  of  religion,  even  in  things  the  most  im- 
portant !    Oh,  have  courage !   Let  your  prayer  be  daily  help : — short, 
perhaps,  but  more  fervent  than  ever,  since  your  wants  and  dangers 
will  be  more  pressing  than  ever.     How  can  you  sustain  yourself 
without  prayer?     How  can  you  calculate  upon  the  assistance  of 
God,  if  you  neglect  and  forsake  him  first — him  who  is  your  Father, 
your  sovereign  Lord?  if  you  abandon  him  for  the  sake  of  men  or 
the  things  of  this  life,  or  cease  to  please  him,  in  order  to  please 
those  the  more  who  have  forsaken  him  and  who  make  this  the  con- 
dition of  their  friendship  and  esteem?     Oh,  no,  never!     Can  you 
not  conciliate  your  duty  toward  man,  and  even  his  favorable  regard, 
with  your  obligations  to  God  as  a  Christian  and  a  Catholic  ?     Most 
assuredly  you  can,  if  you  resolutely  will  it ;  and  it  is  certainly  your 
Juty  to  have  this  efficacious  will  whenever  circumstances  may  re- 
quire it.     It  is  your  duty.     Should  this  word,  so  sacred  in  the  ser- 
vice of  men,  and  which  so  readily  emboldens  them  even  to  the  sacri- 
fice of  life,  be  less  decisive  in  favor  of  God?     Should  it  not,  on 
the  contrary,  be  infinitely  more  so  ?     Undoubtedly ;  for  what  com- 
parison between  God  and  man.  between  time  and  eternity,  between 
the  obligations  of  the  soul  and  the  conventionalities  of  this  world! 
I  have  said  that  you  can  always  conciliate  your  relations  to  God 
with  those  which  you  owe  to  men.     Thousands  of  virtuous  persona 
before  you  have  done  it,  though  engaged  in  the  trying  life  which 
41  4  tt 


482  NOTES. 

von  have  embraced       Does   not  a  generous  Christian  profess  in 
every  thing  a  uniform  fidelity  to  all  the  duties  of  his  state?  and, 
if  they  expose  to  danger,  does  he  not  surpass  every  one  else  in  the 
magnanimity  with  which  he  regards  the  loss  of  life  ?     Does  he  not 
possess,  for  living  in  peace  with  his  friends  and  equals,  all  the  re- 
sources of  a  sincere  charity,  of  a  soul  free  from  pride,  solicitous  to 
observe  in  their  regard  a  uniform  deportment,  and  to  show  itself 
always  obliging,  sociable,  cheerful,  even,  and  pleasant,  amid  th« 
duties  of  a  profession  which  is  so  arduous  and  calls  for  so  much 
energy  T    Must  not  the  avoiding  of  all  haughtiness,  of  all  insincerity, 
of  all  offensive  action  and  language,  make  itself  remarked  in  so 
many  ways  that  it  will  be  impossible  not  to  love,  esteem,  and  respect 
one  who  is  so  anxious  in  every  thing  to  manifest  toward  all  that 
respect,  love,  and  indulgence,  which  are  the  dictates  of  a  good  heart 
and  a  truly  Christian  soul  ?     Excuse  this  last  expression  of  zeal  on 
the  part  of  a  friend  who  is  so  ardently  desirous  of  showing  you,  to 
the  end,  the  sincerity  of  his  sentiments  in  your  regard.     Supply  by 
your  own  reflections  what  will  not  have  been  sufficiently  explained 
to  you.     Follow  whatever  will   appear  to   you   the   true   course 
which  you  should  pursue  in  life— that  life  so  much  exposed  in  the 
profession  upon  which  you  have  entered !     If  a  fault  escape  you, 
return  immediately  and  with  humility  and  love  to  your  God — the  God 
of  all  consolation, — open  your  heart  at  once  to  Him  who  can  heal 
your  spiritual  wound ;  and,  oh,  my  friend,  avail  yourself  with  fervor 
of  every  opportunity  to   become  reconciled  with  Heaven,  by  ap- 
proaching the  sacraments  which  in  the  providence  of  God  you  may 
be  able  to  receive      If  you  seek  this  grace  with  sincerity,  you  will 
find   that  it  will  be  almost  always  in  your  power   to  obtain  it. 
Alas  !  if  it  is  hard  enough  to  resign  oneself  when  it  is  not  at  hand, 
embrace  it  when  it  is  offered ;  and,  if  it  fail,  oh  remember  the  obli- 
gation, more  urgent  than  ever,  of  desiring  to  make  your  peace 
with  God  and  of  expressing  the  most  sincere  and  lively  regret  for 
the  fault  you  may  have  committed.     Never  forget  this,  especially  in 
the  moment  of  danger.     What  lamentable  folly,  to  reject  the  fear 
of  the  Lord  and  the  interests  of  an  immortal  soul  that  is  about  to 
appear  before  him !    Adieu,  adieu !    Please  to  think  of  a  friend  who 
will  never  forget  you,  and  who  begs  you  to  keep  this  paper  in 

memory  of  him. 

"S.BBurf." 


NOTES.  483 

(26)— p.  376. 

In  October,  1812,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubourg  left  Baltimore  fc  He« 
Orleans,  where,  as  prefect  apostolic,  he  undertook  to  regulate  the 
affairs  of  the  Church,  which  were  then  in  a  distracted  condition  in 
that  part  of  the  country.  New  Orleans  had  been  erected  into  an 
Episcopal  See  in  1793,  and  a  bishop  appointed  for  the  government 
tf  the  diocese,  which  embraced  at  that  time  all  the  country  west  of 
the  Mississippi,  under  the  name  of  the  Louisianas.  The  see  having 
become  vacant  in  1801,  by  the  translation  of  the  Bishop  Don  Luis 
Penalver  y  Cardenas,  a  successor  was  appointed  the  following  year, 
who,  however,  died  in  Rome  before  coming  to  this  country.  In 
1804,  Louisiana  became  a  territory  of  the  United  States;  and,  some 
time  after,  Bishop  Carroll  was  charged  with  the  administration  of 
its  spiritual  concerns.  Mr.  Dubourg,  on  his  arrival  there,  found 
religion  in  a  deplorable  state,  owing  chiefly  to  the  want  of  pious 
and  zealous  clergymen ;  and  on  the  restoration  of  peace,  after  the 
battle  of  New  Orleans,  he  embarked  for  Europe  with  a  view  to  in- 
crease the  resources  of  the  diocese.  He  had  not  been  long  in  the 
Eternal  City  when  he  was  appointed  Bishop  of  New  Orleans,  at  the 
Instance  of  Archbishop  Carroll.  Consecrated  in  September,  1816, 
he  spent  nearly  two  years  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  collect- 
ing funds  and  enlisting  laborers  for  the  American  mission.  On  his 
return  to  the  United  States  he  was  accompanied  by  a  band  of  clergy- 
men, who  were  eager  to  share  with  him  the  toils  and  privationa 
of  his  arduous  ministry.  The  ceremony  of  his  installation  took 
place  on  the  4th  of  January,  1818,  at  St.  Louis,  which  he  had 
selected  as  a  temporary  residence.  What  were  the  difficulties  he 
had  to  contend  with,  and  the  courage  with  which  he  met  them,  may 
bo  gathered  from  the  following  passage  in  one  of  his  letters : — "  As 
I  could  not  penetrate  into  the  capital  of  Louisiana  without  ex- 
posing the  sacred  character  with  which  I  was  invested,  I  thought  it 
more  prudent  to  commence  the  attack  at  those  points  of  my  diocese 
which  were  the  least  ably  defended.  .  .  .  For  this  reason  the  vast 
territory  of  Missouri  was  the  first  theatre  of  our  labors;  and  here 
we  had  to  contend  with  obstacles  of  every  kind, — profound  ignoranct 
of  religion  and  the  prejudices  arising  from  it,  universal  corruption, 
toe  disregard  of  every  thing  like  principle,  absolute  poverty,  not 
tavlng  even  whereon  to  lay  my  head,  and  more  than  fifty  persona 


484  NOTES. 

depending  on  me  for  their  support.  Retiring  intc  the  forest,  w« 
there  raised  with  our  own  hands  a  spacious  cabin  to  shelter  us  from 
the  weather,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  another  edifice."  In  1823, 
the  bishop  established  his  residence  at  New  Orleans,  after  having 
introduced  in  Missouri  several  flourishing  institutions  for  the  train- 
ing of  clergymen  and  the  education  of  youth  of  both  sexes,  and 
effected  a  general  improvement  in  the  state  of  things  throughout  the 
vast  district  under  his  charge.  The  following  year  he  obtained  th« 
assistance  of  a  coadjutor, — the  Tit.  Rev.  Joseph  Rosati,  who  resided 
at  St.  Louis,  which  subsequently  became  an  Episcopal  See.  Cir- 
cumstances, however,  having  combined  to  render  the  situation  of 
Bishop  Dubourg  a  source  of  considerable  vexation,  he  accepted  an 
appointment  to  the  See  of  Montauban  in  France,  of  which  he  took 
possession  in  the  autumn  of  1826.  Subsequently,  in  1833,  he  was 
transferred  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Besanqon,  and  the  same  year, 
December  12,  he  terminated  his  career  of  eminent  usefulness,  at  the 
age  of  sixty-five. 

He  was  succeeded  in  the  presidency  of  St.  Mary's  College  by  the 
following  gentlemen : — 

Rev.  J.  B.  F.  Paqueit,  from  Oct.  18,  1812,  to  Dec.  18,  1815. 

Rev.  Simon  G.  BrutS,  from  Dec.  18,  1815,  to  June  3,  1818. 

Rev.  Edward  Damphoux,  from  June  3,  1818,  to  Aug.  23,  1822. 

Rev.  Louis  R.  Deluol,  from  Aug.  23,  1822,  to  Sept.  1823. 

Rev.  E.  Damphoux,  from  Sept.  1823,  to  Sept.  1827. 

Rev.  Michael  F.  Wheeler,  from  Sept.  1827,  to  Feb.  11,  1828. 

Rev.  E.  Damphoux,  D.D.,  from  Feb.  14,  1828,  to  Sept.  1829. 

Rev.  Samuel  Eccleston,  from  Sept.  1829,  to  Sept.  1834. 

Rev.  John  Joseph  Chanche,  from  Sept.  1834,  to  March  1,  1841. 

Rev.  Gilbert  Raymond,  D.D.,  from  March  1, 1841,  to  Sept.  1849. 

Rev.  Oliver  L.  Jenkins,  from  Sept.  1849,  to  Sept.  1852. 

Since  the  last-mentioned  date  the  Collegiate  department  at  St. 
Mary's  has  been  discontinued. 


(27)— p.  379. 

In  the  summer  of  1818  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cooper,  who  on  his  return 
from  Italy  had  been  ordained  priest  at  Baltimore  on  the  15th  of 
August,  was  appointed  to  the  pastoral  charge  of  the  congregation 
at  Emmettsburg ;  but  he  remained  there  only  nine  months.  H« 


NOTES.  485 

afterward  exercised  the  holy  ministry  in  South  Carolina.  Through 
love  for  his  Divine  Master  he  undertook  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy 
Land,  after  which  he  returned  to  his  native  country,  and  was  em- 
ployed in  different  situations  in  the  dioceses  of  Baltimore  and  Phi- 
ladelphia. In  1832  he  went  to  France  on  account  of  his  health, 
and  settled  himself  at  Bordeaux,  attracted  thither  by  the  friendship 
of  Cardinal  Cheverus,  who  had  a  high  regard  for  him  and  subse- 
quently breathed  his  last  in  his  arms.  By  his  munificent  contribu- 
tions to  religious  and  charitable  objects,  Mr.  Cooper  had  reduced 
Himself  almost  to  a  state  of  indigence ;  still  did  he  contrive  from 
his  scanty  means  to  relieve  the  distressed.  His  piety  was  fervent 
and  unaffected,  and,  with  the  dignity  of  his  personal  appearance 
and  the  calm  expression  of  his  features,  was  calculated  to  produce 
a  salutary  effect  upon  those  whom  he  sought  to  win  to  the  practice 
of  religion.  He  was  the  instrument,  in  the  hands  of  God,  for  re- 
claiming many  Catholics  from  the  neglect  of  duty,  among  whom 
were  several  distinguished  merchants  and  members  of  the  bar  at 
Bordeaux,  who  before  had  been  supposed  to  have  scarcely  any  faith 
in  the  Christian  religion.  Nor  was  he  less  successful  in  opening 
the  eyes  of  those  whom  the  prejudices  of  birth  or  education  with- 
held from  the  communion  of  the  true  Church.  Among  the  conver- 
sions due  to  him,  under  God,  may  be  mentioned  that  of  the  Ame- 
rican Consul  at  Bordeaux,  who  is  now  a  priest  and  exercising  the 
holy  ministry  in  the  diocese  of  Philadelphia.  Mr.  Cooper  termi- 
nated a  life  of  good  works  by  a  saintly  death,  on  the  16th  of  De- 
cember, 1843. 

(28)— p.  381. 

Dr.  Matignon  died  on  the  19th  of  September,  1818, — a  day  of 
inexpressible  grief  to  Bishop  Cheverus,  who  omitted  nothing  to 
testify  his  affectionate  regard  for  his  venerable  associate.  The 
obsequies  were  performed  with  the  greatest  solemnity.  "The 
body,"  says  the  biographer  of  Cardinal  Cheverus,  "  was  carried  in 
procession  through  the  streets,  amid  hymns  of  wo,  and  he  him- 
self, with  his  mitre  on  his  head,  followed  the  coffin  attended  by  his 
congregation.  The  inhabitants  respected  the  ceremony,  however 
unusual  in  their  eyes,  honoring  by  their  silence,  and  the  perfect  order 
they  preserved,  the  grief  of  M.  de  Cheverus  and  the  memory  of 
his  friend.  The  ensuing  day,  all  the  journals  of  the  city,  far  from 
41  « 


486  MOTES 

saying  aught  against  the  ceremonial,  tendered  their  thanks  to  M. 
de  Cheverus  for  haying  augured  so  well  of  the  good  spirit  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Boston,  and  known  how  to  appreciate  the  sentiment! 
of  reverence  which  they  felt  for  his  departed  associate." — (p.  111.) 

(29)— p.  384. 

In  1803,  eight  priests  and  seventeen  lay-brothers  of  the  Trappist 
order  came  to  America,  and  were  afterward  joined  by  three  other 
priests  and  several  lay-brothers  of  the  same  institute.  The  year 
of  their  arrival  they  settled  at  Pigeon  Hills,  near  Hanover,  Pa., 
when,  after  a  sojourn  of  twelve  months,  they  removed  to  the  State 
of  Kentucky,  on  Pottinger's  Creek.  Here  they  were  established 
until  the  spring  of  1809,  observing  all  the  austerities  of  their  rule 
and  edifying  the  community  by  their  holy  life.  They  also  con- 
ducted a  school  for  the  gratuitous  instruction  of  boys,  which  was 
the  first  Catholic  school  of  any  note  in  Kentucky.  But  the  climate 
not  being  favorable  to  the  observance  of  their  rigid  rules,  five 
priests  and  three  lay-brothers  fell  victims  to  disease.  This  circum- 
stance, with  the  desire  of  Father  Urban,  the  superior,  to  labor  for 
the  welfare  of  the  savage  tribes,  induced  him  to  move  his  com- 
munity still  farther  west.  They  accordingly  fixed  their  residence  at 
Florissant,  in  Missouri,  where  they  remained  one  year,  and  then 
crossed  over  to  the  State  of  Illinois,  to  locate  themselves  on  a  farm 
which  had  been  presented  to  them  by  a  Catholic  of  that  country. 
Here  they  settled  around  a  cluster  of  Indian  mounds,  one  of  which 
is  called  Monks'  Mound  to  this  day.  Though  much  exposed  to 
danger  in  this  place  from  the  marauding  Indians  who  infested  the 
country,  their  establishment  was  never  molested.  But  the  climate 
here  was  not  better  adapted  than  that  of  Kentucky  to  the  practice 
of  their  rule,  two  priests  and  five  lay-brothers  being  carried  awaj 
by  sickness. 

These  particulars  respecting  the  first  establishments  of  the  Trap- 
piste  in  the  United  States  we  have  condensed  chiefly  from  Dr. 
Spalding's  Sketches  of  Kentucky,  p.  167,  &c.,  where  they  are  related 
with  many  interesting  details.  But  the  distinguished  author  has 
not  mentioned  several  other  places  where  the  Trappists  attempted 
to  settle  themselves  after  having  retired  from  Monks'  Mound.  To 
•apply  this  omission  we  will  quote  here  a  passage  from  the  biogra- 


NOT1S.  487 

phical  notice  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Moranville",  by  B.  U.  Campbell,  Esq., 
and  published  in  the  U.  S.  Catholic  Magazine,  vol.  i.  p.  623. 

"After  some  efforts  to  effect  their  purpose  in  the  West,  which 
various  causes  combined  to  frustrate,  they  went  to  t.  Mary's  or 
Charles  county,  in  Maryland.  Unaccustomed  to  the  climate,  and 
pursuing  their  rigorous  rule  in  unwholesome  locations,  their  health 
failed ;  and,  as  it  became  necessary  for  them  to  withdraw  from  the 
tower  counties,  they  were  induced  to  come  to  Baltimore,  and  Rev 
Mr  Moranville"  invited  them  to  remain  with  him.  Father  Francis 
Xavier,  a  priest  of  the  order,  died  on  the  passage  thither.  Rev. 
Mr.  Moranville'  had  the  body  of  the  venerable  servant  of  God  in- 
terred behind  the  church,  at  the  foot  of  the  Calvary,  and  immediately 
received  the  survivors  into  his  own  house,  where  he  entertained 
them  for  some  time,  renting  a  small  house  adjoining  the  churchyard, 
to  furnish  additional  accommodations ;  and  here  the  Trappists  re- 
mained temporarily,  until  the  indefatigable  pastor  arranged  a  plan 
for  their  more  suitable  accommodation.  The  large  house  and  ex- 
tensive garden  opposite  St.  Patrick's  Church,  known  as  Whitehall, 
was  rented  for  the  Trappists,  and  they  were  installed  in  their  new 
habitation  with  a  view  to  the  permanent  establishment  of  their  order. 
Their  devout  deportment  became  a  source  of  edification  to  the  con- 
gregation of  St.  Patrick's,  whose  pastor,  with  his  wonted  zeal,  suc- 
ceeded in  inducing  several  of  the  more  fervent  to  unite  with  these 
good  monks  in  their  pilgrimage  along  the  strait  and  narrow  way 
that  leads  to  salvation.  The  Trappists,  after  remaining  in  Balti- 
more about  two  years,  removed  to  New  York  in  1814,  which  city, 
it  was  thought,  offered  a  more  eligible  location  and  a  more  extensive 
field  of  usefulness.  Their  plan  was  to  unite  the  instruction  of  youth 
to  the  ordinary  exercises  of  their  order,  and  they  took  possession 
of  an  establishment  previously  occupied  by  the  French  Consul, 
about  four  miles  from  the  city,  and  issued  a  prospectus.  Their 
constant  friend,  Mr.  M.,  was  with  them  in  New  Fork,  explaining 
their  plan  and  bespeaking  the  favorable  interest  of  the  public  in 
their  behalf.  The  superior,  however,  to  the  surprise  and  regret  of 
Mr.  M.,  suddenly  determined  to  abandon  the  contemplated  settle- 
ment in  the  United  States,  and  arrangements  were  commenced  to 
neturn  to  Europe ;  leaving  to  the  election  of  the  Americans  who  had 
joined  the  order,  but  were  not  bound  by  vow,  either  to  accompany 
the  elder  members  in  their  return  or  to  withdraw  from  the  order.  Twt 


488  NOTES. 

of  the  more  youthful  members  of  St.  Patnck's  congregation  deter 
mined  to  go  to  Europe,  and  the  others,  being  persons  advanced  ii 
years,  who  were  ignorant  of  the  French  language,  were  induced  to 
leave  the  order.  The  good  pastor,  who  had  continued  near  tno 
children  of  his  flock,  to  encourage  and  counsel  them  in  all  their 
difficulties,  remained  with  them  to  the  end,  and,  when  the  final  ar- 
rangement was  completed  in  New  York,  conducted  his  novices  back 
to  Baltimore,  and,  all  of  the  females  having  determined  to  solicit 
admission  among  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  he  accompanied  them  to 
Emmettsburg,  made  known  their  wishes,  and  saw  them  favorably 
received  into  the  House  of  St.  Joseph's." 

The  order  of  La  Trappe  is  a  reform  of  the  Cistercian  monks, 
founded  originally  by  St.  Stephen  and  St.  Bernard  in  the  twelfth 
century,  and  following  a  very  austere  rule.  In  the  course  of  time, 
the  Cistercian  monks  having  degenerated  from  their  primitive  fervor, 
several  attempts  were  made  to  revive  among  them  the  true  spirit 
of  their  institute,  but  chiefly  by  the  Abbe"  de  Ranee",  in  the  six- 
teenth century.  This  clergyman  was  of  an  ancient  and  wealth} 
family,  and  was  unfortunately  misled  into  the  dissipation  of  the 
world ;  but,  touched  by  the  grace  of  God,  he  determined  to  re- 
nounce its  vanities  and  to  devote  himself  to  a  penitential  life. 
With  this  view  he  retired  to  the  abbey  of  La  Trappe,  which  he 
held  in  commendam, — that  is,  for  his  support, — and  made  his  profes- 
sion there  as  a  Cistercian  monk,  in  1664.  Contemplating  with  grief 
the  sad  decline  of  the  order,  and  possessing  all  the  qualities  which 
would  enable  him  tc  execute  the  work  of  reform,  he  resolved  to 
undertake  it,  and  by  his  exhortations  and  example  he  succeeded  in 
inducing  his  brethren  of  La  Trappe  to  practise  faithfully  the  rigid 
discipline  of  their  institute.  Those  who  embraced  the  reform  of 
De  Ranee"  were  thence  called  Trappists,  to  distinguish  them  from 
other  houses  of  the  Cistercian  order  that  did  not  adopt  the  strict 
observance.  Several  other  Trappist  establishments  were  founded 
in  France,  Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Italy,  and  exhibited  the 
brightest  examples  of  virtue.  Some  of  them  still  flourish,  display- 
ing that  heroic  self-denial  and  austerity  of  penance  by  which  th« 
monastic  life  was  distinguished  in  its  most  fervent  dnys.  See 
Sketches  of  Kentucky,  by  the  Very  Rev.  Dr.  SpaMing,  p.  1 62,  &c. 

The  Trappists  have  now  two  establishments  in  the  United  States — 
one  near  Dubuque,  Iowa,  and  the  other  near  New  Heaven,  Nelso» 


NOTES.  489 

county,  Ky.  The  latter  is  an  abbey,  prjperly  so  culled,  haTing  ita 
abbot  with  the  title  of  Rt.  Reverend,  who  was  consecrated  by  the 
Bt.  Rev.  Dr.  Spalding  in  1851.  For  further  particulars  see  Metro- 
politan Catholic  Almanac,  1862,  pp.  112,  148,  and  preceding  num- 
bers of  the  same  work. 


(80)— p.  890. 
Hie  following  is  the  hymn  alluded  to  in  the  text:—* 

"  Jerusalem,  my  happy  home, 
How  do  I  sigh  for  thee ! 
When  shall  my  exile  have  an  end, 
Thy  joys  when  shall  I  Fee? 
Jerusalem,  Ac. 

•'  No  sun  or  moon,  in  borrowed  light, 

Revolves  thine  hour  away  ; 
The  Lamb  on  Calvary's  mountain  slain 
Is  thy  eternal  day. 

Jerusalem,  Ac. 

"  From  every  eye  he  wipes  the  tear 

All  sighs  and  sorrows  cease  ; 
No  more  alternate  hope  and  fear, 
But  everlasting  peace. 

Jerusalem,  Ac. 

"  The  thought  of  thee  to  us  is  given, 

Our  sorrows  to  beguile, 
T  anticipate  the  bliss  of  Heaven 
In  his  eternal  smile. 

Jerusalem,  Ac." 

As  an  instance  of  Mrs.  Scton's  originality  of  thought  and  power 
•f  illustration,  we  will  furnish  here  the  introduction  to  a  letter  which 
•he  wrote  to  llev.  Mr.  Brute",  when  on  his  way  to  Europe  in  1816, 
And  before  she  had  heard  of  his  arrival  in  that  country : — 

**  Whitsun  Eve,  at  the  foot  of  St.  Mary's  Mountain,  from  whence 
the  thousand  streams  of  remembrances  coming  down  with  the 
•dent  heavenly  dews,  which  '  to  the  whole  world  give  excess  of  joy,1 


490  NOTES. 

says  oar  divine  preface.  The  God  of  oar  heart  sees  what  pas*  /• 
in  mine  on  such  a  festival  of  desires,  remembrances,  and  realities, 
with  its  unutterable  cries  to  the  lux  beatisaima  which  is  to  pervade 
so  intimately  every  faithful  heart.  You  understand  fully.  Th« 
hope  that  you  will  be  at  his  altar  and  there  receive  the  olive  of 
peace  from  the  mystic  Dove,  or,  if  yet  shut  up  in  your  ark,  th« 
abundance  he  will  pour, — either  overflows  the  soul  of  the  poor  Ame 
rican  mother  with  torrents  of  desires  for  you  in  this  season  of  graces 
Your  share  will  be  without  measure,  if  the  poor  sinner  is  heard." 

The  subjoined  extract  from  a  letter  to  a  clergyman  in  Baltimore, 
refers  to  the  scene  at  St.  Joseph's  sisterhood  early  on  the  morning  of 
Christmas,  1811,  and  is  a  beautiful  expression  of  her  lively  faith  : — 

"  Between  the  adoration  of  midnight  and  the  mass  of  four  o'clock. 
What  moments,  our  father !  Our  happy  retreat  ended,  the  flame 
of  love  ascending,  every  innocent  heart  beating — they  who  had  jom- 
muned  before  preparing  and  desiring  as  if  for  the  first  time,  and 
the  meltings  of  love  going  from  mother  to  children  and  from  chil- 
dren to  mother!  At  half-past  eleven  she  called  them  from  their 
short  slumber,  or  rather  found  most  of  them  watching  for  her. 
Come ! — gratitude  and  love  resounded  in  a  moment  through  all  the 
dormitories,  from  young  and  old  ;  even  dear  Annina,  lying  in  her 
cold  sweat  and  fever,  joined  the  loud  chorus.  The  altar  dressed 
by  our  truly  angelic  sacristans  Vero  and  Betsy,  adorned  with  the 
purest  taste,  and  blazing  with  lights  made  by  their  virgin  hands — 
oh,  my  father,  words  have  but  little  meaning.  Our  Venite,  Glorias, 
Te  Deum,  and  Ave — you  can  understand.  All  we  wanted  was  Vert 
dignum  et  juttum  ett  we  were  so  often  delighted  with  in  former 
days.*  Peace  to  memory!  Let  all  be  hushed  as  the  darling  Babe 
when  he  first  laid  his  dear  mouth  to  the  sweet  breast  of  his  mother; 
— but  the  vert  dignum  will  sound  in  my  ear,  my  heart  will  follow 
it.  Well,  I  stop,  adore,  and  listen." 

(31)— p.  390. 

With  the  exception  of  some  letters,  a  few  instructions,  medita- 
tions, and  scraps  of  poetry  and  prose,  Mother  Seton  has  left  ae 


•  Mr.  Babade,  to  whom  this  note  wag  addressed,  had  a  voice  admirably  adapted 
to  the  ecclesiastical  chant,  high,  melodious,  and  commanding,  and  he  knew  how 
tc  mike  use  of  it. 


NOTES.  491 

original  compositions.    Her  translations  are  the  folio-wine,  all  from 
French  works  — 

1.  Life  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul,  in  4to. 

2.  Life  of  Mademoiselle  Le  Gras. 

3.  The  Antiphons  of  Advent,  by  Avrillon. 

4.  St.  Ambrose's  Treatise  on  Virginity. 
6.  Interior  Peace,  by  Lombez. 

6.  Various  passages  from  the  works  of  Berthier 

7.  Portions  of  St.  Theresa's  works. 

8.  Parts  of  Dupont's  Meditations. 

9.  Commencement  of  the  Life  of  St.  Ignatius. 

10.  Letters. 

11.  Passages  from  Pere  Judde. 

12.  A  portion  of  the  Conferences  of  St.  Vincent  of  Paul. 
18.  A  portion  of  the  Conferences  of  St.  Francis  of  Sales 

(32)— p.  396. 

Archbishop  Neale  having  closed  his  career  at  Georgetown,  in  the 
District  of  Columbia,  on  the  17th  of  June,  1817,  the  Rev.  Ambrose 
Mare'chal,  of  the  Society  of  St.  Sulpitius,  and  Professor  of  Theo- 
logy in  St.  Mary's  Seminary  at  Baltimore,  was  appointed  by  the 
Holy  See  to  succeed  him.  He  was  consecrated  on  the  14th  of 
December  of  the  same  year,  by  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Cheverus,  Bishop 
of  Boston. 

For  a  notice  of  Archbishop  Neale,  see  United  States  Catholic 
Magazine,  vol.  iii.,  1844,  p.  605;  for  an  account  of  Archbishop 
Mare'chal,  see  the  same  work,  vol.  iv.,  1845,  p.  82. 

(33)— p.  420. 

It  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  tfie  reader  to  know  the  estimate 
which  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Brute"  had  formed  of  Mother  Seton's  merit 
and  virtue.  The  penetrating  mind,  solid  judgment,  and  holiness 
of  life,  for  which  he  himself  was  distinguished,  with  the  favorable 
opportunities  which  he  possessed  of  ascertaining  her  true  character, 
most  also  entitle  his  opinion  on  this  subject  to  high  regard.  He 
was  acquainted  with  her  for  ten  years  before  her  death,  and  during 
most  of  that  period  he  saw  her  nearly  every  day ;  the  remainder 
of  the  time  he  maintained  an  uninterrupted  correspondence  with 


492  NOTES. 

her  by  letters.  Daring  the  last  two  years  and  a  half  of  her  life 
he  was  the  confessor  of  herself  and  her  community.  Among  hit 
papers  we  find  the  following  notice  of  Mother  Seton:  — 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  will  say,  as  the  result  of  my  long  and  in 
timate  acquaintance  with  her,  that  I  believe  her  to  have  been  on< 
of  those  truly  chosen  souls  (amct  d' elite)  who,  if  placed  in  circum- 
stances similar  to  those  of  St.  Theresa  or  St.  Frances  de  CliautuL, 
would  be  equally  remarkable  in  the  scale  of  sanctity.  Fur  it  seemi 
to  me  impossible  that  there  could  be  a  greater  elevation,  purity,  and 
love  for  God,  for  heaven  and  for  supernatural  and  eternal  things, 
than  were  to  be  found  in  her.  But  we  must  leave  to  the  Almighty 
his  adorable  designs  and  the  proper  estimate  of  the  degree  of  ap- 
proximation of  her  heart  to  his.  Though  we  see  in  her  more  faults 
or  apparent  weakness,  and  less  of  the  extraordinary,  than  are 
witnessed  in  the  lives  of  great  saints,  yet  who  but  the  Lord  him- 
self can  judge  to  what  extent  the  difference  of  circumstances 
should  be  considered  for  the  determination  of  her  comparative 
merit  ? 

"  'Dear  Mother',  I  would  sometimes  say,  after  having  conversed 
with  her  about  eternity,  &c.,  '  I  will  live  fifty  yearn  yei,  and  you 
twenty-five,  at  least.  She  would  shrug  her  shoulders  at  this  imagi- 
nation, always  contending  that  she  would  die  soon.  Once  I  drew  a 
little  picture,  representing  two  aged  persons  leaning  on  their  staff, 
near  a  cluster  of  graves,  one  saying  to  the  other,  '  Do  you  remember 
twenty-five  years  ago  ?'  Our  Lord  has  ordered  things  differently. 
In  fact,  neither  she  nor  I  wished  to  have  a  single  desire  on  that 
point, — neither  the  desire  to  live,  or  to  live  in  the  same  place.  On 
the  contrary,  she  told  me  that  her  joy  before  God  would  be  to  see 
me  in  China,  in  regard  to  which  I  had  sometimes  expressed  to  her 
my  feeble  thoughts,  which  would  have  pleased  her  more  had  they 
been  more  generous  and  more  faithful.  At  other  times,  she  rather 
reproached  me  for  entertaining  such  foreign  thoughts,  instead  of 
yielding  myself  with  a  good  will  to  the  providence  of  God,  in 
those  places  and  occupations  to  which  he  called  me  at  the  time. 

"Nothing  could  be  more  grand  or  more  vast  than  her  views  of 
things.  Nothing  could  exceed  her  readiness  for  sacrifice  ;  and  sh* 
could  not  comprehend  how  one,  especially  a  clergyman,  conld  con- 
•ider  any  thing  as  a  sacrifice  in  the  service  of  God.  Her  views, 
however,  were  not  exaggerated,  but  characterized  by  a  true  wisdom, 


NOTES.  493 

and  extremely  averse  to  all  Tain  speculation  or  ouilding  castka  IB 
the  air.  Oh  the  noble  and  right  mind !  Soul  ardent  and  humble 
at  the  same  time  I  Oh,  how  deeply  impressed  was  she  with  the 
only  greatness  of  God,  and  the  real  nothingness  of  the  pretended 
greatness  of  his  servants,  beholding,  adoring,  and  praising  in  their 
works  the  will  of  God  alone !  •  He  is  all !  God  is  all !'  she  would  suy 
continually ;  or  a  motion  of  the  shoulders,  the  eyebrows,  or  lips, 
without  uttering  a  word,  would  express  the  feelings  of  her  soul, 
when  she  heard  any  one  speak  with  rapture  of  the  saints,  without 
looking  chiefly  to  God,  the  Dim  Seul  as  explained  by  Mr.  Boudon." 

(34)— p.  423. 

A  few  weeks  before  her  death,  Mr.  Brute"  placed  in  her  hands  a 
scrap  of  paper,  with  the  following  sentiments  written  on  it : — 

"  My  good  Mother,  your  poor  physician  of  the  soul  does  not  se« 
you  much,  as  he  does  not  wish  to  fatigue  you.  He  has  no  cause  to 
fear,  knowing  that  the  heavenly  Physician,  the  Beloved,  the  Spouse, 
the  only  desire  of  your  heart,  is  continually  present :  present  in  the 
love,  confidence,  abandon,  which  he  inspires — abandon  the  most 
tender  and  most  unreserved.  Present  in  the  continual  acts  of  pe- 
nance, humility,  dependence,  and  resignation  to  suffer  every  thing 
in  union  with  Him,  with  his  cross.  Present  in  the  peace,  the  tran- 
quil joy,  which  he  imparts ;  in  the  total  disengagement  which  he 
teaches ;  in  the  grace  of  every  moment,  pain  or  comfort,  which  he 
dispenses.  '  For  all  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  glory  thereof,'  0 
Mother,  0  Josephine,  'as  the  flower  of  the  grass  ;'  but  'the  word 
of  our  God,'  his  grace,  his  love,  'liveth  and  remaineth  forever' 
Oh  joy,  oh  sweet  abandon  to  him !" 

Mr.  Brute"  remarks  that  those  words  of  the  Lord  to  Edom  in  the 
forty-ninth  chapter  of  Jeremiah,  verse  eieven,  "Leave  thy  fatherless 
children :  I  will  make  them  alive :  and  thy  widows  shall  hope  in 
me,"  were  admirably  illustrated  in  the  sentiments  of  Mother  Seton, 
abandoning  her  children,  her  community,  all,  to  the  good  providence 
ef  God.  "  How  beautifully,"  he  says,  "  does  this  passage  express 
her  magnanimous  faith  on  her  deathbed!  My  Lord,  I  have  seen 
t,  felt  it :  express  it  I  cannot,  and  I  suffer  immensely  in  not  being 
able  to  do  so ;  for  it  would  be  a  source  of  so  much  edification  if  it 
eould  be  communicated  such  as  I  FELT  it." 
42 


494  NOTES 

(85)— p.  425. 

The  character  of  Mother  Seton's  faith  and  piety,  toward  the 
close  of  life,  reminds  as  of  what  is  related  of  the  illustrious  St 
Theresa.  Her  biographer  informs  us  that,  just  before  receiving  the 
holy  Viaticum,  she  said  to  her  religious,  "My  daughters  and  ladies, 
pardon  the  bad  example  which  I  have  given  you.  Do  not  imitate 
her  who  has  been  the  greatest  sinner  in  the  world,  and  who  has 
been  the  most  neglectful  of  her  rules  and  constitutions.  I  entreat 
you,  my  daughters,  for  the  love  of  God,  to  observe  them  with  great 
perfection,  and  to  obey  your  superiors."  These  words  were  uttered 
with  so  much  feeling  and  tenderness  that  all  present  melted  into 
tears.  When  the  priest  of  God  entered  her  cell,  to  administer  the 
Blessed  Sacrament,  her  countenance  became  quite  animated,  and, 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  sacred  host,  she  exclaimed,  "  0  my  Lord, 
the  wished-for  moment  has  at  length  arrived ;  it  is  time  to  see  each 
other.  My  Lord,  it  is  time  to  go !  Let  me  set  out  on  a  fortunate  day, 
and  thy  will  be  accomplished.  The  hour  is  now  come  for  quitting 
this  exile,  when  my  soul  will  enjoy  with  thee  what  it  has  so  much 
desired."  After  having  received  the  last  sacraments,  she  repeated 
very  often,  "At  length,  0  Lord!  I  am  a  child  of  the  Church!" 
and  she  found  in  this  reflection  a  source  of  indescribable  consola- 
tion.—  Vie  de  Ste.  Therese,  by  Collombet,  12mo,  p.  279. 


(36)— p.  432. 

The  Rt.  Rev.  John  Conolly,  second  Bishop  of  New  Fork,  died 
In  that  city  on  the  6th  of  February,  1825.  When  the  See  became 
vacant  in  1810,  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  was  an  exile  from  Rome  and 
held  in  captivity  by  the  ambitious  Napoleon.  In  consequence  of 
this  state  of  things,  the  diocess  of  New  York  remained  without  a 
Bishop  until  tb.3  Holy  Father  returned  to  his  dominions  in  1814. 
Dr.  Conolly,  who  then  resided  at  Rome,  was  appointed  to  that 
Bee.  He  was  a  native  of  Ireland  and  a  member  of  the  Dominican 
order.  His  labors  for  the  good  of  religion  were  incessant,  and 
were  marked  by  great  prudence  and  piety. 

A  few  years  after  the  appointment  of  Dr.  Conolly  to  the  See 
tf  New  York,  that  of  Philadelphia,  which  had  been  vacant  since 


NOTS8.  495 

the  death  of  Bishop  Egan  in  1814,  was  filled  by  the  accession  of 
the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Conwcll,  who  took  possession  of  it  in  1820.  The 
same  year,  Charleston  and  Richmond  were  erected  into  Episcopal 
Sees,  and  the  illustrious  Dr.  England  named  to  the  former ;  the 
incumbent  of  the  latter  was  Bishop  Kelly,  who  remained  but  a 
short  time  in  this  country.  In  1821  the  diocess  of  Cincinnati 
was  formed  from  that  of  Bardstown,  and  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Fen- 
wick,  a  Dominican,  appointed  to  the  charge.  Thus,  at  the 
period  of  Mr.  Dubois's  accession  to  the  See  of  New  York,  there 
was  one  Metropolitan  and  eight  Episcopal  Sees  and  one  Vicariate 
in  the  United  States ;  one  Archbishop  and  nine  Bishops,  one  of 
the  latter  being  the  coadjutor  of  Bardstown,  another  the  coadjutor 
of  New  Orleans,  and  a  third  Vicar  Apostolic  of  Florida. 

(37)— p.  433. 

Before  Mr.  Dnbois  retired  from  the  institution  at  Mt.  St. 
Mary's,  all  connection  between  it  and  the  society  of  St.  Sulpice, 
except  in  the  way  of  Christian  feeling  and  intercourse,  had 
ceased.  Messrs.  Dubois  and  Brute"  left  the  Sulpitians  in  1824. 
Mr.  Dubois's  successor  in  the  presidency  of  Mt.  St.  Mary's  Sem- 
inary, was  the  Rev.  Michael  Dubourgo  Egan,  an  eleve  of  the 
institution,  and  a  clergyman  of  sound  judgment,  tender  piety 
and  great  gentleness  of  manners.  He  was  followed  in  the  same 
office  by  the  Kev.  John  B.  Purcell,  the  present  Archbishop  of 
Cincinnati,  under  whose  administration  the  college  was  char- 
tered in  1830.  Subsequently,  the  Rev.  Francis  B.  Jamison  and 
Rev.  Thomas  R.  Butler  presided  over  the  institution.  The  actual 
President  is  the  Rev.  John  McCaffrey,  D.D.,  under  whose  wise 
direction  the  seminary  has  enjoyed  a  uniform  prosperity.  The 
church  on  the  mountain  has  been  enlarged,  a  chapel  annexed  to 
the  college,  and  an  additional  building  put  up  for  the  conven- 
ience of  the  students,  ninety-five  feet  long,  sixty  feet  wide  and 
four  stories  high.  Another  structure  of  vast  dimensions  is  now 
in  progress  for  increasing  the  accommodations  of  the  establish- 
ment. Since  1851,  only  Catholic  boys,  or  such  as  may  be  in- 
structed in  the  Catholic  religion,  are  admitted  into  the  college. 
The  number  of  pupils  for  several  yean  past  has  amounted  to 
•at  hundred  and  thirty. 


496  NOTBB. 

(88)— p.  48«. 

Resolutions  passed  by  the  Board  of  Guardians  of  the  Aim* 
bouse  at  Philadelphia : 

"Philadelphia,  May  20, 1833. 

"  At  a  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Guardians,  the  following  pre 
amble  and  resolutions  were  adopted : 

"  Whereas  a  written  communication  has  been  received  by  thii 
Board  from  the  Rev.  John  Hickey,  Superior  of  the  Sisters  of 
Charity,  intimating,  for  reasons  therein  stated,  that  it  is  his  in- 
tention to  recall  the  sisters  now  in  the  Almshouse,  as  soon  as  this 
Board  shall  have  had  time  to  supply  their  places ;  and  whereat 
it  is  proper  that  some  testimony  should  be  borne  to  the  zeal, 
fidelity  and  disinterestedness  which  these  amiable  philanthro- 
pists have  exhibited ;  therefore 

"  Resolved,  That  this  body  entertain  a  deep,  lasting  and  grate- 
ful sense  of  the  generous  devotedness,  the  serene  and  Christian 
kindness,  and  the  pure  and  unworldly  benevolence  which  have 
prompted  and  sustained  the  Sisters  of  Charity  attached  to  this 
institution,  during  the  trying  period  of  pestilence  and  death,  and 
afterwards  in  the  midst  of  constant  suffering  and  disease. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  invaluable  services  of  these  amiable  women 
have  been  productive  of  lasting  benefit  to  this  institution,  in  the 
admirable  and  energetic  measures  which  they  have  introduced 
for  the  relief  and  comfort  of  the  sick  and  afflicted,  and  entitle 
them  to  the  warmest  thanks  and  gratitude  of  the  whole  commu- 
nity, which  has  been  benefited  by  their  labors. 

"Resolved,  That  this  body,  in  parting  from  the  Sisters  of  Char- 
ity, regret  that  the  rules  and  habits  of  the  order  to  which  the 
sisters  belong,  do  not  admit  the  acceptance  of  any  reward,  as  it 
would  give  them  pleasure  to  bestow  such  a  testimonial  as  might 
serve  partially  to  express  the  grateful  feelings  which  they  en- 
tertain. 

"  Resolved,  That  in  permanent  testimony  of  our  feeling  in  this 
regard,  the  above  resolutions  be  recorded  in  the  minutes  of  this 
Board."— NileJ  Register,  June  1,  1833. 

Resolutions  adopted  by  the  City  Council  of  Baltimore,  in  Jan- 
nary,  1833. 

"Whereas  it  becomes  a  grateful  community  at  all  times  to 
mark  and  approve  examples  of  public  devotion  and  virtue,  mort 


50TX8.  491 

particularly  when,  in  seasons  of  general  distress  and  affliction,  the 
dispensations  of  a  mysterious  wisdom  are  only  to  be  met  with  a 
becoming  patience,  piety,  and  courage  — 

"And,  whereas  in  a  recent  afflicting  dispensation,  through 
which  an  all-wise  Providence  may  have  designed  to  humble  and 
purify  the  hearts  of  his  people,  when  pestilence  and  death  were 
at  our  family  altars,  the  Sisters  of  Charity  were  conspicuous  in 
the  labor  of  love,  as  strangers  flying  to  our  succor  in  distress, 
and  encountering  death  as  the  price  of  their  self-devotion— 

"And,  whereas  Sisters  Mary  Frances  (Boarman)  and  Mary 
George  (Smith),  members  of  the  said  sisterhood,  while  attending 
the  sick  in  the  cholera  hospitals  in  this  city,  during  the  preva- 
lence of  the  late  epidemic,  fell  a  sacrifice  to,  and  died  in  the 
exercise  of  these,  the  noblest  principles  of  social  virtue ;  be  it 

"Resolved  by  the  Mayor  and  City  Council  of  Baltimore,  That  as 
a  memorial  of  the  gratitude  of  the  city,  a  monument  be  erected 
to  the  memory  of  the  said  deceased  sisters,  as  a  record  of  and  a 
just  tribute  to  their  exemplary  piety,  humanity,  and  self-devo- 
tion."— Baltimore  Gazette,  January  26th,  1833. 

This  monument  stands  in  the  Cathedral  Cemetery. 

(89)— p.  486. 

Since  the  resignation  of  the  Very  Rev.  Mr.  Nagot,  first  supe- 
rior of  the  seminary,  in  1810,  the  Very  Rev.  John  Tessier  had 
presided  over  the  institution.  The  Very  Rev.  Mr.  Deluol  held 
the  office  until  the  autumn  of  1849,  when  he  was  succeeded  by 
the  Very  Ilev.  Francis  Lhomme,  the  actual  superior  of  the  sem- 
inary. The  average  number  of  students  in  the  institution  is 
twenty. 

When  Mr.  Hickey  assumed  the  spiritual  direction  of  the  sis- 
terhood in  1830,  Mr>  Brute*  was  relieved  from  that  portion  of  hit 
arduous  duty.  A  few  years  after,  in  1834,  he  was  consecrated 
the  first  Bishop  of  Vincennes,  and  entered  upon  a  new  field  of 
labor.  His  situation  at  the  commencement  of  his  administration, 
and  the  success  that  attended  his  exertions  for  the  good  of  re- 
ligion, are  thus  described  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  McCaffrey : 

"  At  Viacennes  he  found  himself  in  the  most  trying  oircun.- 
stances.  He  was  a  stranger,  poor  and  alone.  He  law  around 
41»  2€t 


498  NOTES. 

him  little  more  than  the  wreck  of  the  Catholic  faith  and  disci- 
pline of  the  original  settlers.  Looking  abroad,  he  beheld  indeed 
an  immense  field  for  labor ;  but  the  ground  was  almost  unbroken. 
Everything  was  to  be  commenced,  and  all  was  .to  be  effected  by 
himself.  Destitute  as  he  was  of  every  human  means  of,  success, 
he  applied  with  courage  to  his  allotted  task,  and  while  he  freely 
exposed  himself  to  '  the  heat  and  burthen  of  the  day,'  he  prayed 
with  fervor  and  confidence  to  the  '  Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  He 
would  send  laborers  into  his  harvest.'  In  less  than  eight  months 
he  had  travelled  more  than  a  thousand  miles  on  horseback,  over 
roads  almost  impracticable ;  had  visited  every  part  of  his  exten- 
sive diocess,  and  was  as  familiar  with  the  minutest  circumstan- 
ces regarding  its  missions  and  those  of  the  West  in  general, 
as  if  the  whole  of  his  valuable  life  had  been  devoted  to  them 
exclusively.  He  then  proceeded  to  Europe  to  procure  the  suc- 
cors which  he  needed.  More  than  twenty  missionaries  accom- 
panied him  on  his  return,  and  he  obtained  from  the  charity  of 
our  Catholic  brethren  in  the  old  world,  considerable  resources 
for  establishing  schools,  building  churches,  founding  an  asylum 
for  destitute  orphans,  and  celebrating  the  holy  mysteries  with 
becoming  dignity.  .  .  .  There  was  no  station  in  his  diocess  which 
he  did  not  visit  repeatedly.  At  home  he  was  at  once  the  Bishop, 
the  pastor  of  the  congregation,  the  Professor  of  Theology,  the 
father  of  his  family  (for  so  he  always  designated  his  ecclesias- 
tics), the  benefactor  of  the  poor,  and  the  affectionate  friend  of 
all.  In  a  short  time  he  had  opened  a  college,  established  at  his 
own  expense  a  free  school,  and  founded  another  for  girls  to- 
gether with  an  orphan  asylum,  under  the  superintendence  of 
the  Sisters  of  Charity.  In  order  to  carry  on  these  various 
schemes  of  beneficence,  and  actuated  by  a  spirit  of  humility  and 
self-denial,  he  submitted  to  many  privations  which  his  declining 
health  could  ill  sustain.  The  Bishop,  clergy,  seminarians  and 
scholars  of  the  college  occupied  the  same  house,  took  their  meals 
in  the  same  refectory,  and  in  every  respect  constituted  but  one 
family.  He  reserved  no  privileges  to  himself;  he  would  have  no 
advantages  or  comforts  which  he  could  not  share  with  all.  Ilia 
labors  were  so  multifarious  and  burthensome,  that  they  would 
scarcely  be  credible  to  those  who  did  not  know  his  wonderful 
activity  of  mind  and  powers  of  tndurance.  In  addition  to  the 


NOTES.  499 

occupations  I  have  already  mentioned,  he  taught  theology  in 
his  seminary,  gave  lessons  in  French  in  one  of  his  academies, 
furnished  a  large  amount  of  historical  and  antiquarian  informa- 
tion to  the  literary  societies  of  Vincennes,  wrote  twice  a  month 
to  every  priest  in  his  diocess,  and  maintained  an  extensive  cor- 
respondence with  almost  every  part  of  Europe  and  America.  It 
is  but  a  short  time  since  he  took  possession  of  his  Episcopal  See. 
He  found  a  single  priest  and  but  two  or  three  churches  in  his 
diocess.  He  has  left  twenty-three  missionaries  in  it,  and  in 
every  town  almost,  besides  many  stations  in  country  places,  a 
temple  has  risen  or  is  rising  up  to  the  honor  of  the  living 
God."  * 

This  man  of  God,  whose  motto  was  to  "  spend  and  be  spent 
himself"  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  terminated  his  valuable  life 
(too  short,  alas!)  on  the  28th  of  June,  1889,  aged  sixty  yeara. 

(40)—  p.  438. 
The  following  is  the  inscription  on  the  church* 

Omnipotent!.  Deo. 

Sacrum. 
Pnellse.  Charitatls. 

In  honorem. 

Josephl.  Sancta.  Qenitricls.  BponiL 
JSdem.  a.  solo.  sua.  impensa.  factam. 
Et  collati  tla.  cultornm.  stipe,  erectam. 
Libentee.  rnerito. 
Dedicarunt.     ' 
XIV.  Kalendas.  Aprilis. 
Anno.  M.  D.  CCC. 


The  word  dedicarunt  in  this  inscription,  must  have  been  intended 
to  signify  the  offering  made  to  God  of  the  building,  at  the  time 
of  laying  the  corner-stone  ;  for  the  above-mentioned  date  is  that 
of  blessing  the  first  stone,  not  that  of  the  consecration  of  the 
church.  The  expression  of  this  latter  date  would  be,  II  Nonas 
Maii,  Anno  M  D.  CCC.  XLL 

*  Discourse  on  the  Rt.  Rev.  Simon  Gabriel  Brute,  by  the  Ber.  John  McCaffrey, 
D.  D.,  delivered  at  Mt.  St.  Mary'*  Church.  The  reader  te  referred  to  this  oratloa 
ai  an  eloquent  and  impnwiT*  sketch  of  the  character  and  labon  of  that  di» 
Unguuhed  man. 


500  HOTBE. 

(41)— p.  439. 

The  bell  which  hangs  in  the  steeple  of  St.  Joseph's  Church,  it 
one  of  the  many  articles  of  this  description  which  were  brought 
to  this  country  from  Spain  during  the  ascendency  of  Espartero, 
when  human  progress  found  another  illustration,  so  common  with 
our  political  radicals,  in  the  spoliation  of  the  Church  and  her  holy 
institutions.  Several  of  these  bells  were  for  sale  in  Baltimore, 
and  in  the  selection  of  one  of  them  for  the  sisterhood  at  Emmetts- 
burg,  a  singular  coincidence  presented  itself  which  deserves  to  b« 
recorded.  In  order  to  judge  of  the  tones  of  the  different  bells, 
the  Rev.  Thomas  R.  Butler,  agent  of  the  institution,  stationed 
himself  at  some  distance  from  the  place  where  they  were  sus- 
pended. They  were  now  rung  one  after  the  other,  and  were 
distinguished  by  the  numerical  order  in  which  they  were  sounded. 
Mr.  Butler  having  chosen  one  that  appeared  to  him  adapted  to 
the  purpose,  found  upon  examination  of  the  inscription  which 
it  bore,  that  it  had  been  cast  in  the  year  1809,  the  very  period 
at  which  the  sisterhood  was  established  at  Emmettsbnrg ;  also, 
that  it  had  been  dedicated  in  honor  of  St.  Joseph,  who  was  the 
chief  patron  of  the  institution  and  chapel  in  the  Valley !  Thus, 
at  the  very  time  that  St.  Joseph's  community  was  commencing 
there,  a  bell  was  prepared  for  it  in  a  far  distant  land,  with  an 
appropriate  inscription,  and  destined  to  be  brought  hither,  after 
thirty-two  years,  upon  the  completion  of  the  sacred  edifice  that 
was  to  receive  it.  But  St.  Peter  tells  us,  "  that  one  day  with 
the  Lord  is  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  on* 
day."— 2  Peter,  iiL  8. 

(42)— p.  446. 

As  we  have  already  stated,  the  Rev.  Mr.  David  accompanied 
Bishop  Flaget  to  Kentucky  in  1811,  and  among  the  happy  re- 
sults of  his  labors  in  the  West  for  the  good  of  religion,  was  the 
institution  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  Nazareth.  In  1812  the 
ecclesiastical  seminary  of  St.  Thomas  was  commenced  and  placed 
under  his  direction.  The  duties  of  these  two  institutions  did  not 
prevent  him  from  giving  all  due  attention  to  the  wants  of  the 
congregation  at  Bardstown,  which  was  also  under  his  charge. 
He  still  continued  these  various  services  after  his  elevation  U 
the  episcopacy  in  1819,  when  he  was  consecrated  Bishop  of 


NOTES.  601 

Mauricastro  inpartibu*  and  coadjutor  of  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Flagei. 
He  presided  over  the  Society  of  Nazareth  with  wisdom  and  sn  J- 
cesB,  for  the  space  of  twenty  years.  But  the  infirmities  which 
he  suffered,  obliged  him  at  an  advanced  age  to  retire  in  a  great 
measure  from  these  various  labors.  In  his  retirement  he  trans- 
lated some  pious  works,  and  spent  much  of  his  time  in  prayer, 
meditation,  and  preparation  for  death.  Thus  did  he  render  hit 
days  full  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  dispose  himself  for  the  sum- 
mons that  called  him  from  life.  His  death  took  place  on  the 
12th  of  June,  1841. 

For  a  more  particular  account  of  Bishop  David,  see  Sfalcfui 
•/  Kentucky,  by  Dr.  Spalding. 

(48)— p.  466. 

A  ihort  time  after  Mother  Ann  Simeon  had  pronounced  her 
holy  TOWS,  she  once,  in  the  fulness  of  her  heart,  gave  expression 
to  her  feelings,  and  penned  the  subjoined  touching  stanzas  : 

TO  JESUS  IS  THE  BLESSED  SACRAMENT 

0  Jem,  my  Saviour,  my  heart's  only  treasure, 
Thy  beauty  has  won  me,  I  long  to  be  thine ; 

Ho  longer  can  aught  to  this  bosom  give  pleasure 
But  to  say  with  the  spouse,  My  Beloved  ii  mine 

With  thy  favorite,  John,  to  repose  on  thy  bosom, 
Forgetful  of  all  save  thy  presence  so  dear ; 

To  know  dearest  Jesus,  that  thou  art  my  portion, 
And  thus  in  the  bliss  of  thy  spouses  to  share. 

And  oh !  what  a  pledge  of  thy  love  thou  hast  given, 
Thyself  on  our  altars  by  night  and  by  day ; 

T  if  here  that  we  find  a  sure  foretaste  of  heaven, 
A  glimpse  of  that  glory  which  ne'er  will  decay. 

For  when,  dearest  Jesus,  before  thee  I  'm  kneeling, 
Thy  angels  are  'round,  thy  Spirit  descends, 

And  my  soul,  quite  absorbed,  seems  to  lose  every  feelinf 
But  that  of  thy  presence,  while  lowly  she  bends- 


602  NOTES. 

(44)— p.  456. 

William  H  Stokes,  M.  D.,  in  his  thirty-fifth  annual  report  of 
Mt.  Hope  Retreat,  says : 

"  The  location  of  Mt.  Hope  Retreat  is  itself  exceedingly  favor* 
able  to  health.  It  is  situated  on  a  broad  extended  plateau,  near 
six  hundred  feet  above  tide,  and  its  surrounding  grounds  afford 
rare  facilities  for  drainage.  Then  again,  in  all  the  hospital 
arrangements,  the  strictest  regard  is  paid  to  hygienic  considera- 
tions, such  as  good  ventilation,  plenty  of  light,  an  abundant 
supply  of  good  water,  and  special  attention  to  proper  tempera* 
ture  throughout  the  building; — and  as  contributing,  in  no  small 
measure,  to  the  favorable  results  flowing  from  the  strict  ob- 
servance of  these  sanitary  measures,  the  thorough  cleanliness 
maintained  in  every  part,  the  comfortable  beds  conducing  to 
sound,  regular  sleep,  and  a  generous  supply  of  food,  exert  an 
influence  which  we  will  find  it  difficult  to  estimate.  At  the  close 
of  the  last  year,  there  were  in  the  Retreat  three  hundred  and 
one  patients —  one  hundred  and  thirty-four  males,  and  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty-seven  females.  During  the  year  1877,  one  hun- 
dred and  two  have  been  admitted,  or  thirty-seven  males  and 
sixty-five  females,  making  a  total  number  of  four  hundred  and 
three  nnder  treatment— one  hundred  and  seventy-one  malei 
mod  two  hundred  and  thirty-two  females." 


NOTES. 


503 


(45)— p.  469. 
GENERAL  STATISTICS 

Of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  the  Province  of  the  United  States  for  the  Tear  1878. 


Name  of  Place. 

Name  qf  Establishment. 

5j 

f 

J 

| 

| 

| 

School 
Children. 

Poor  visited 
and  assisted. 

Albany,  N.  Y  
Albany,  N.  Y  

St.  Vincent's  Asylum.. 
St.  Joseph's  School  

9 
9 

209 

Albany  N  Y  

St.  John's  School.. 

6 

1?0 

Albany  N  Y 

7 

IS? 

Alton  111  

ft 

99 

St.  Vincent's  Hospital. 

16 

ftn 

56 

403 

1? 

224 

Baltimore,  Md  

St.  Mary's  Asylum  

11 
6 

139 

175 

St  John's  School 

12 

325 

Baltimore,  Md  

St.  Vincent's  School.... 

11 
8 

300 
?40 

Baltimore,  Md  

St.  Vincent's  Inf.  Asy.. 

0 
9 

'47 

262 

52 

51 

1? 

170 

Boston,  Mass  

Carney  Hospital  

14 

MS 

1ft« 

10 

Buffalo,  N.Y  
Buffalo  N  Y  

St.  Vincent's  Asylum.. 
1  1  1  PS].,  of  Sis  of  Charity 

11 
IS 

130 

1179 

Buffalo  N.  Y  

8 

?07 

& 

in 

Buffalo,  N.  Y  

9 

174 

Bouligny,  La  
Chicago  111  

St.  Vincent's  School.... 

4 
8 

4M 

Chicago,  111  
Chicago  111   

St.  Patrick's  School  

10 
9 



290 

360 

7 

30 

70 

St  Mary's  School 

4 

84 

Dorchester,  Mass... 
Detroit,  Mich  

St.  Mary's  Infant  Asy. 
St.  Vincent's  Asylum.. 

6 
8 
8 

i28" 

240 

37 

500 

Detroit  Mich 

11 

06 

Detroit,  Mich  
Donald8onville,La. 

House  of  Providence... 
St.  Vincent's  House.... 

6 
9 
194 

101 

65 

1000 

4 

140 

Emmittsburg,  Md. 

Day  -  School     on     the 
Academy     premises 
(for  children  of  the 

f, 

40 

Evansville,  Ind  

St.  Mary's  Hospital  

6 
4 



360 
107 

E.  Saginaw,  Mich.. 
Keokuk,  la  

St.  Vincent's  Or.  Home 
St.  Vincent's  School.... 

3 

7 

27 

1?fi 

La  Salle,  111  

Lowell,  Mass  

St.  Vincent's  School.... 
St.  Peter's  House  

4 
6 
g 

4 

"256 

150 
110 

Charitable  Institution 

lf> 

31 

202 

8 

501 

8 

100 

300 

130 

Milwaukee,  Wis... 

St.  Joseph's  Asylum.... 
St.  Mary's  Hospital  

8 
A 

25 

382 

Milwaukee,  Wis... 

St.  Vincent's  Inf.  Asy. 

8 

40 

*  Connected  with  this  Academy  th»i«  »r»  alto  101  boardsn. 


504  NOTES. 

GENERAL   STATISTICS— (Continued.) 


Name  of  Place. 

Name  of  Establishment. 

i 
I 

S 

J 

Widows. 

* 

! 

School 
Children] 

760 
60 

435 

2531 

Mobile,  AU  

St.  Mary's  Asylum  
ProTidence  Infirmary- 
City  Hospital  ... 

10 
6 
g 

12 

109 

100 
89 
237 

177 

106 

116 

175 
114 

200 
227 
160 

422 
150 
80 

299 
150 

71 
120 
140 

260 

135 
260 

230 

100 
43 

7333 

Mobile,  Ala.  
Mobile,  Ala  



91 
686 

Mobile,  Ala.  

St.  Vincent's  School.... 

ft 

Natchez,  Miss  
Natchez,  Miss  
New  Orleans,  La... 
New  Orleans,  La... 
New  Orleans,  La... 

St.  Mary's  Asylum  
St.  Joseph's  School  
Charity  Hospital  

11 
6 
26 
7 
10 

71 

6748 
"679 
2 



St.  Joseph's  School  
Hotel  Dieu  

New  Orleans,  La... 
New  Orleans,  La... 
New  Orleans,  La... 
New  Orleans,  La... 
New  Orleans,  La... 
Norfolk,  Va.  

N.  Orleans  F.  Orp-  Asy. 
St.  Vincent's  Inf.  Asy.. 
St.  Simeon's  School  
St.  Eliz.  H.of  Indns'y. 

13 
12 
16 
18 
11 

131 
'l57 

269 

134 

Hosp.  of  St.  V.  of  Paul 
St.  Mary's  Asylum  
St.  Joseph's  Hospital.. 
St.  Joseph's  Asylum... 
St.  Vincent's  Home  

13 
6 
13 
8 
9 

613 

Norfolk,  Va.  „ 
Philadelphia,  Pa... 
Philadelphia,  Pa... 
Pkiladelphia,  Pa... 
Petaluma,  Cal  
Petersburg,  Va  
Portsmouth,  Va.... 
Richmond,  Va  
Richmond,  Va  
Rochester,  N.  Y.... 
Reading,  Pa  
San  Francisco,Cal. 
San  Francisco.Cal. 
San  Francisco,Cal. 
Santa  Barbara.  Ca!. 
Santa  Cruz,  Cal  
St.  Louis,  Mo-  
St.  Louis,  Mo  
St.  Louis,  Mo..  

32 
"234 

166 

688 

St.  Vincent's  School.... 

6 

A 

5 

St.  Joseph's  Orp.  Asy.. 
St.  Patrick's  School.... 

13 
A 

83 

16 

602 
10 

St.  Catharine's  Asy  
R.  Catholic  Orph.  Asy. 
Mount  St.  Joseph's  
St.  Vincent's  School 

4 
18 
11 
14 

40 
290 
220 

61 

9 

St.Vincent's  Institut'n 
Sch.  of  the  Holy  Cross. 
St.  Mary's  Asylum  
St.  Ann's  Asylum  
St.  Philomena's  School 

10 
9 
10 
13 
13 
1? 

60 
16 
154 

'"84 

306 

111 

26 

St.  Louis,  Mo-  
St.  Louis,  Mo  
St.  Louis,  Mo  

H.  of  the  Guard.  Angel 
St.  Louis'  Hospital 

8 
?0 

68 

809 

288 

St.Vincent's  Institut'n 
St  Joseph's  School 

19 

4 

St.  Joseph,  Mo  
Stauntou,  Va  
Syracuse,  N.  Y  
Syracuse,  N.  Y  

Troy,  N.Y  
Trov,  N.Y  

St  Francis'  School 

4 

St.  Vincent's  Asylum.. 
St.  Joseph's  House  of 

11 

8 
8 
6 
11 
12 
11 
6 
6 
15 
12 
10 
4 
9 
ft 

141 

140 
186 

80 

St.  Vincent's  Asylum.. 
St.  Vincent's  Asy.  Sch. 
Troy  Hospital  
St.  John's  Asylum  
St.  Mary's  School  
St.  Mary  Louise's  Hosp 
School  Im.  Conception 
St.  Vincent's  Orp.  Asy. 
Providence  Hospital... 
St.  Ann's  Asylum  
St.  Rose's  Indus'l  Sch.. 
St.  Peter's  School  
St  Vincent's  School 

Troy,  N.Y  
Utica  N.Y  

"124 

91 



426 

Virginia  City,NeT. 
Virginia  City,Nev. 
Washington,  D.  C.. 
Washington,  D.  C.. 
Washington,  D.  C.. 
Washington,  D.  C.. 
Washington,  D.  C.. 
Wilmington,  Del... 
Whistler,  Ala.  

194 

1046 
16 

"l31 

'"27 
54 

"l28 

3576 

125 

17587 

TOTALS  —  No.  of  EptablisbniPnts,  106 

1170 

17S() 

1096 

26,030  Sisters  of  Charity  are  employed  in  works  of  charity  throughout  the  world. 


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